If you’ve ever struggled to button your pants, you know it can be frustrating. Now imagine spending 30 minutes trying—and ultimately failing. That’s me most days. (And yes, I let the F-bombs fly.) I’m not buying a size too small; I have cerebral palsy, a neurological disorder that limits my range of motion and ability to grasp objects on my right side. When it comes to getting dressed, trouble with pants is just the beginning. I have a tough time getting shirts and dresses over my head and my arms through sleeves. I don’t do well with button-up blouses, since the buttons are usually on the left. Jackets, particularly ones that zip, are also a challenge. I often end up asking whomever I’m with for help—not fun when you’re 26.
People with disabilities are constantly forced to find wardrobe workarounds. Jillian Mercado, a model who has appeared in campaigns for Diesel and Nordstrom, got pretty inventive in dressing for the leg braces she once used because of her spastic muscular dystrophy. (She still uses a wheelchair.) “I’d cut slits into the bottoms of my pants, then attach Velcro so they’d close over the braces,” she recalls.
But those of us who are disabled (please don’t call us differently abled—that term waters down the reality; disabled, that’s what I am, no shame) are faced with constant reminders that fashion doesn’t include us. Rebecca Cokley, a senior fellow at the Center for American Progress and a little person, estimates she pays double for clothes, once she factors in the cost of alterations. And no, shopping in the kids’ section is not an option: “That is the most obnoxious suggestion I hear,” says Cokley. “I’m a professional who has worked in the boardrooms of corporate America and the White House. I can’t dress like a 10-year-old to meet with cabinet secretaries!” Disability activist Alice Wong, who has spinal muscular dystrophy, owns only one pair of shoes because most styles cause her feet too much pain. She often resorts to Polartec fleece socks—the brighter, the better, “so I don’t experience too much shoe envy,” she says.
Making Fashion More Inclusive
A full one in five Americans reports having a disability, defined as a mental impairment, like autism, or a physical one, such as spina bifida. Designing clothes for us no doubt has its challenges. One hurdle is fit: Our bodies aren’t always symmetrical due to bent spines or limbs that are different lengths (or are simply not there). How clothes function is critical too—from snaps that close easily to fabric tags that don’t irritate (a concern for many on the autism spectrum).
Recently there have been signs that things are changing. Open Style Lab, founded in 2015 as a design incubator for adaptive fashion, has partnered with New York City’s Parsons School of Design. OSL’s pieces—a raincoat that fits over a wheelchair, a heated bomber jacket for those with trouble regulating body temp—are as fashion-forward as anything you’d find on the runway, though they’re available only on a custom basis. Etsy is a popular source for adaptive wear, and while the mostly no-frills offerings found there (like leggings and pullovers) are highly functional, they are far from the most fashionable. Customadaptiveclothing.com replaces buttons with snaps or other tweaks to clothing you send them, but it can take weeks. (Don’t even think about impulse shopping.)
Now some companies are working to make options more widely available: In October, Tommy Hilfiger launched Tommy Adaptive, a line of jackets, pants, and dresses in the brand’s signature preppy style with magnetic zippers and Velcro closures as well as adjustable hems (to accommodate a spectrum of limb lengths). After the company launched a similar line for children (incidentally, a demographic that’s much better served when it comes to adaptive fashion), “we received overwhelmingly positive feedback,” says Hilfiger, “and we made the decision to expand to adults.” Zappos Adaptive also debuted last year after a customer called looking to exchange a pair of shoes given to a grandson with autism because he couldn’t tie the laces. The collection, curated from different brands, boasts sporty-skewing clothing and footwear—most of it tagless and buttonless, and much of it thoughtfully considered, like a pair of high-tops that look like lace-ups but are actually slip-ons (a plus for those with impaired hand mobility).
Room for Improvement
It hasn’t been an easy road for either company. Zappos initially disappointed some customers by offering almost exclusively active wear (we deserve grown-up, tailored pieces too!), but the line now includes denim, and business casual is expected to be next. And some activists have criticized Hilfiger for his association with Autism Speaks, an organization controversial, in part, for not having enough people with autism in leadership positions.
I understand why some may be skeptical of any company tackling these issues; one of our community’s main tenets is “Nothing about us without us.” We want a seat at the table when everything from dinner forks to boyfriend denim is made for us. Zappos says it gathered customers’ input, and the Hilfiger company held focus groups with members of the disabled community across the country (full disclosure: I was part of these and received clothing in exchange). That’s a good first step, but I can’t help but think what it could mean if more companies were to hire people with disabilities—how that could help not only fine-tune details of design but also combat the stigma against hiring people with disabilities, a group with double the unemployment of our able-bodied peers.
Still, it’s promising to see things evolve. I wear pieces from the Tommy line often—they’re super-fashionable and really easy to put on and take off. (I’m a big fan of a plaid halter dress that goes from day to night and has no tricky zippers.) If I could tell designers three things, they would be: One, to those making these clothes, thank you for taking a bold leap into this space. Two, to the other fashion companies, it’s time to get in the adaptive game—we’ll thank you with our loyalty…and our wallets. And three, if any of you are unsure about the next step, just ask one of us.
Keah Brown is a writer whose work has appeared in Teen Vogue, Essence, and Lenny Letter. Her debut essay collection, The Pretty One, is slated for 2019.
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