This Morning host Josie Gibson left viewers with mixed opinions over her glamorous look on the daytime show today (December 15).

For Monday morning’s show, the former Big Brother winner hosted alongside Dermot O’Leary. The pair stepped in for regular presenters Cat Deeley and Ben Shepherd.

For today’s episode, Josie donned a navy dress with cream detailing. The attire featured gold buttons and a collar. Josie teamed the ensemble with cream heels and accessorized with small gold hoop earrings.

The 40-year-old styled her luscious, long blonde locks down with a middle part and opted for a glossy lip.

Josie hosted This Morning alongside Dermot O’Leary (Credit: ITV)

Josie Gibson on This Morning

In a collaborative Instagram post with her glam squad, Josie showed off the stunning look with her 755,000 followers.

“Gorgeous! Also, I want her dress!” one user wrote.

“Stunning,” another person shared.

“Great to see you both on This Morning,” a third remarked.

“Loved her outfit today,” a fourth said.

‘Starting to not look like Josie’

Meanwhile, many accused Josie of using Botox and lip filler and insisted she is starting to look unrecognisable.

“Josie, you are so beautiful, don’t destroy your lips and face with fillers and Botox,” one person insisted.

“Why lip filler, you don’t need it Josie!” another person shared.

“You look absolutely stunning, but no more lip filler. You honestly don’t need it as you’re a natural beauty,” a third said.

“Starting to not look like Josie,” a fourth fan declared.

“Looks like Josie is channeling her inner Donald Duck. What the hell has she done?” another asked.

In the past, Josie appeared to have been honest about having filler. In 2011, she reportedly told Now Magazine: “I was so scared I’d end up like a fish, I only asked them to put a tiny bit in.”

“I’ve been wanting my lips done for ages. I think they injected collagen. It lasts for a few months and I’ll definitely get it done again,” Josie added.

Josie Gibson’s appearance on This Morning sparked an immediate and passionate reaction from viewers, as the presenter stepped onto the set showcasing a noticeably glamorous new look. Compliments poured in just as quickly as criticism, dividing the audience and reigniting familiar conversations about beauty, authenticity, and expectations placed on women in daytime television. What might have been a simple style change instead became a flashpoint for wider emotional and cultural debates.

For many viewers, Josie’s glam look was met with delight. Social media lit up with praise describing her as “gorgeous,” “radiant,” and “confident.” Fans applauded her for embracing a more polished style, arguing that she looked happy, empowered, and comfortable in her own skin. To them, the transformation felt celebratory rather than performative, a reminder that women can enjoy glamour at any stage of life and in any body.

Others, however, were less enthusiastic. Some viewers expressed disappointment, claiming the new look felt at odds with the down-to-earth persona that had made Josie so relatable. This Morning audiences have long associated her with warmth, humour, and a sense of ordinariness that contrasted with the often glossy world of television. For these viewers, the glam styling felt like a departure from that identity, sparking a sense of loss rather than admiration.

The divided response reveals how deeply audiences invest in the perceived authenticity of television personalities. Josie Gibson has built her career on approachability. From her Big Brother days to her role on This Morning, she has often been celebrated as someone who represents “realness” in a media landscape that can feel overly curated. Any visible shift in appearance, therefore, is interpreted not just as a fashion choice, but as a symbolic change in who she is.

Supporters of Josie pushed back strongly against the criticism, arguing that expecting her to remain visually static is unfair and restrictive. They pointed out that men in similar roles are rarely scrutinised for changing their appearance, while women are expected to strike an impossible balance between looking good and not looking like they are trying too hard. From this perspective, the backlash says more about societal pressures than about Josie herself.

Emotionally, the debate touched on insecurity, projection, and the complicated relationship viewers have with women they feel connected to through television. Some critics framed their discomfort as concern, suggesting that Josie might be feeling pressure to conform to industry beauty standards. Others rejected this outright, insisting that choosing glamour can be an act of self-expression rather than submission.

The language used by viewers on both sides of the divide was telling. Praise was often enthusiastic and affectionate, while criticism frequently carried an undertone of disappointment rather than hostility. This suggests that many who questioned the look did so not out of malice, but out of a sense of disrupted familiarity. Josie’s image had become comforting to them, and change can feel unsettling even when it is positive.

This Morning itself occupies a unique space in British television. As a daytime programme watched by millions in their homes, it fosters a sense of intimacy between presenters and viewers. Hosts are not just entertainers; they become part of daily routines, background companions to morning coffee or lunchtime breaks. When someone in that role changes visibly, it can feel personal, as though a familiar friend has suddenly altered.

Josie’s glam look also reignited long-standing conversations about body image. As a plus-size woman in mainstream television, she has often been praised for challenging narrow beauty ideals. Some viewers worried that a more polished, conventionally glamorous presentation undermined that role. Others argued the opposite — that seeing a plus-size woman styled glamorously on daytime TV is powerful precisely because it expands what glamour looks like.

There is an emotional contradiction at the heart of this debate. Viewers want representation, but they also want consistency. They want women to be confident, but not intimidating. Stylish, but not unrelatable. Authentic, but still aspirational. These conflicting desires place public figures like Josie in an impossible position, where any choice risks criticism.

Josie herself has not shied away from discussing confidence and self-worth in the past. She has spoken openly about her journey with body image, mental health, and self-acceptance. In that context, the glam look can be seen as another chapter in that journey rather than a rejection of her past self. Confidence is not static, and neither is self-expression.

The reaction also reflects a broader cultural moment where women’s appearances are endlessly dissected online. Social media has amplified opinions that once might have remained private, turning personal style choices into public debates. What Josie wore on This Morning became content, commentary, and controversy within minutes, illustrating how little room there is for neutrality.

Some viewers questioned why a woman’s appearance continues to overshadow her professional role. Josie was on the programme to present, engage, and entertain, yet much of the discussion ignored her work entirely. This frustration echoes a familiar complaint among women in media: that no matter how competent or charismatic they are, their looks remain a primary focus.

Defenders of Josie argued passionately that she should be allowed to enjoy fashion without it becoming a referendum on her identity. They emphasised that glamour does not erase authenticity, and that relatability does not require remaining visually unchanged. Growth, they argued, should be celebrated, not policed.

Critics, meanwhile, often framed their discomfort in terms of “losing what made her special.” This sentiment, while emotional, reveals how audiences can unconsciously claim ownership over public figures. When someone becomes a symbol — of relatability, of body positivity, of ordinariness — any deviation from that symbol can feel like a betrayal, even if that expectation was never fair.

The emotional intensity of the response suggests that Josie Gibson occupies a meaningful place in viewers’ lives. People care enough to argue because they feel connected. In many ways, the divided reaction is a testament to her impact rather than a failure on her part. Indifference would be far more damaging than debate.

This moment also highlights the evolving nature of daytime television aesthetics. Programmes like This Morning have gradually become more polished over the years, reflecting changing production values and audience tastes. Josie’s glam look may simply be part of that broader shift, rather than a singular statement.

Yet even within that context, the scrutiny remains uneven. Female presenters bear the brunt of visual commentary, while their male counterparts often escape similar attention. This imbalance fuels frustration among viewers who see the criticism of Josie as another example of gendered double standards.

Emotionally, the debate exposes how deeply appearance is tied to identity in the public imagination. For Josie, a change in styling may feel playful or empowering. For viewers, it can trigger questions about belonging, representation, and self-worth. These reactions are not always rational, but they are deeply felt.

As the discussion continues, many viewers have reflected on their own responses. Some who initially felt uncomfortable acknowledged that their reaction stemmed from resistance to change rather than genuine concern. Others stood by their criticism but recognised the need to express it without judgment or entitlement.

Ultimately, Josie Gibson’s glam appearance on This Morning became more than a fashion moment. It became a mirror reflecting societal attitudes toward women, bodies, and visibility. The divided response underscores how progress and expectation often collide, creating tension even in seemingly light-hearted spaces.

For Josie, the moment may pass, replaced by the next headline or style choice. But the conversation it sparked will linger, feeding into ongoing discussions about authenticity, empowerment, and the right of women in the public eye to evolve on their own terms.

Whether viewers loved or questioned the look, one thing is clear: Josie Gibson continues to command attention, affection, and debate. In a media landscape where many figures fade into the background, that visibility is significant. It suggests that she remains relevant not just as a presenter, but as a figure through whom wider cultural conversations unfold.

In the end, the divided reaction says less about whether Josie looked “gorgeous” — a subjective and fleeting judgment — and more about how audiences negotiate change in people they feel connected to. Glamour, like authenticity, is not a fixed state. It is a choice, a mood, a moment. And as Josie Gibson continues to navigate her career in the public eye, those moments will continue to provoke emotion, reflection, and conversation long after the cameras stop rolling.

As the conversation around Josie Gibson’s appearance continues to unfold, what becomes increasingly clear is that this moment has tapped into something far deeper than a hairstyle, a dress, or a makeup choice. It has exposed the emotional contract that exists between daytime television presenters and the audiences who welcome them into their homes every day. Josie is not simply watched; she is felt. And when someone occupies that kind of space, even the smallest visible change can provoke a surprisingly powerful emotional response.

For many viewers, Josie represents comfort. She is familiar in the truest sense of the word, someone whose presence signals warmth, humour, and ease. That familiarity can quietly harden into expectation, and expectation into ownership. Without realising it, audiences can begin to believe they know who someone is meant to be, how they are meant to look, and what they are meant to represent. When that image shifts, even slightly, it can feel like something personal has been altered without permission.

This is where the emotional divide truly sits. Those who celebrated Josie’s glam look saw joy, confidence, and self-expression. Those who questioned it often felt unsettled, as though a version of Josie they cherished was slipping away. Neither reaction exists in a vacuum. Both are shaped by projection, memory, and the deeply human tendency to resist change in the things that feel safe.

What complicates this further is that Josie has long been framed, often by others rather than herself, as a symbol. A symbol of relatability. A symbol of body positivity. A symbol of not conforming. While these labels are well-intentioned, they can become restrictive. They flatten a person into an idea, leaving little room for growth, contradiction, or experimentation. When Josie steps outside that symbolic role, even briefly, the discomfort that follows reveals how heavy those expectations really are.

Emotionally, this moment invites reflection on how society treats women who dare to evolve in public. Growth is celebrated in theory, but in practice it is often met with suspicion. If a woman changes her look, her motives are questioned. If she embraces glamour, her authenticity is scrutinised. If she stays the same, she risks being dismissed as stagnant. There is no winning position, only constant negotiation.

Josie’s glam appearance disrupted the invisible agreement some viewers believed they had with her. That agreement was never spoken, never signed, but it existed nonetheless. It said: stay as you are, because who you are makes us comfortable. When she stepped beyond that, even in a way many found beautiful, it forced viewers to confront an uncomfortable truth—that comfort can sometimes be rooted in limitation.

The emotional responses also reveal how strongly people tie appearance to identity. For Josie, looking glam may have been a simple act of self-enjoyment, a moment of fun or confidence. For viewers, it became a referendum on who she is and what she stands for. That disconnect is not unique to her; it is a burden carried by countless women in the public eye, especially those whose appeal has been built on relatability.

There is also a quieter, more vulnerable emotion beneath some of the criticism: fear of comparison. When someone who feels “like us” steps into a more glamorous presentation, it can trigger insecurity. Viewers may wonder what it means for their own self-image, their own sense of worth. This is not always consciously acknowledged, but it can surface as discomfort, framed outwardly as concern or disappointment.

Supporters of Josie have been vocal in challenging this reaction, urging others to examine why a woman enjoying glamour feels threatening. Their defence is not just about Josie; it is about permission. Permission for women to be multifaceted. Permission to move between casual and polished, humour and elegance, comfort and confidence without having to justify the shift.

The emotional weight of this debate also highlights the unique intimacy of daytime television. This Morning is not consumed at a distance. It plays in kitchens, living rooms, workplaces. Its presenters become part of daily rituals. That intimacy can blur boundaries, making viewers feel closer than they truly are. When that closeness is disrupted, the emotional reaction can be disproportionate to the trigger.

Josie’s situation underscores the cost of being loved for your “realness.” While authenticity is celebrated, it can also become a cage. Once an audience decides what realness looks like, any deviation can be framed as betrayal rather than growth. The irony is painful: the very quality that makes someone beloved can also limit their freedom.

Emotionally, this moment may mark a subtle turning point. Viewers are being asked, whether they realise it or not, to reconsider what they expect from women they admire. Do they want them to remain fixed, reassuring mirrors of familiarity? Or do they want them to be whole people, capable of change, experimentation, and contradiction?

For Josie, navigating this response requires emotional resilience. No matter how confident she feels internally, public scrutiny has a way of seeping in. Praise can feel conditional. Criticism can feel personal. The emotional labour of existing in that space—where every choice is analysed—is immense, and often invisible to those watching.

What makes this moment significant is not whether Josie continues to dress glamorously or returns to a more casual style. It is the conversation that has been sparked around choice. Her appearance has become a catalyst for examining how women’s bodies and identities are policed under the guise of opinion, concern, or preference.

There is also a sense of quiet empowerment in the fact that Josie did not apologise for the look. The absence of justification is itself a statement. It suggests confidence not just in appearance, but in the right to choose without explanation. That, in many ways, is the most radical element of the moment.

Emotionally, the divided reaction reveals a culture in transition. Audiences are renegotiating their relationship with representation. They want authenticity, but they are learning that authenticity does not mean immobility. It means honesty, even when that honesty looks different from what was expected.

As time passes, the intensity of the debate will likely fade, replaced by new stories and new images. But the emotional imprint will remain, both for viewers and for Josie herself. Moments like this accumulate, shaping how public figures understand their audience and how audiences understand themselves.

There is something quietly hopeful in the fact that this debate happened at all. It shows that people care deeply about representation, about connection, about what women are allowed to be in public spaces. The anger, the praise, the discomfort—all of it points to engagement rather than apathy.

In the end, Josie Gibson’s glam look on This Morning was never just about glamour. It was about permission. Permission to evolve. Permission to enjoy beauty without abandoning relatability. Permission to be both familiar and surprising.

The divided response reflects a society still learning how to let women change without demanding explanations. It exposes the tension between comfort and growth, between expectation and autonomy. And it reminds us that when someone we feel close to changes, the discomfort we feel often says more about our own fears than about their choices.

Josie remains, at her core, the same person viewers have grown to love—warm, funny, open. A different outfit does not erase that. What it does is challenge the idea that those qualities must always look the same.

As the cameras continue to roll and the headlines move on, this moment will settle into the broader story of Josie’s career. Not as a controversy about appearance, but as a quiet assertion of agency. A reminder that women in the public eye are not static symbols, but living, evolving people.

And perhaps, for viewers, it offers an invitation. To sit with discomfort rather than resist it. To question why change feels threatening. To allow the people they admire the freedom to surprise them.

In that sense, the divided reaction is not a failure of connection, but evidence of it. Because people do not argue so passionately about someone they do not care about. And in caring enough to debate, viewers have shown just how deeply Josie Gibson still matters—glamorous, relatable, evolving, and entirely her own.