Lara Masters: the fascinator

The presenter, model, milliner and judge on Britain’s Missing Top Model reflects on reforming the fashion industry, disability politics… and hats

I don’t buy fashion or gossip magazines because they perpetuate difficult standards for women to live up to. I love to look good but I don’t follow fashion. I like to express myself but I don’t like being sold something by a 13-year-old anorexic. It’s my way of trying to have some principles.

If I was on Britain’s Next Top Model I’d be buying into that. The reason I was a judge on Britain’s Missing Top Model (BMTM) was to make a change to that industry: expanding the one-dimensional idea of beauty we’re fed every day.

One day an overweight model with a facial disfigurement will be accepted, but we can’t suddenly do that now; there’d be a backlash. The Dove ads have shown that more representative women can sell products; they don’t need to use size zero 14-year-olds all the time. Again, it’s a slow process and it’s just starting. Subtle changes are needed before a disabled actor is selling you your cornflakes.

The fashion industry wouldn’t be in business if we didn’t buy the products sold by stick-thin, unhealthy girls. It’s a collective responsibility: don’t buy something that is sold in a way that’s anathema to you.

Non-disabled people think I’m political but people who are political about disability don’t. Doing a reality TV programme about disabled models isn’t politically correct from a disability politics point of view. But from an able-bodied person’s point of view, I’m arguing for the winner to have a disability people can see – that’s political.

I’m by no means hardcore, but we need to change the way disabled people are seen, and if we have to work from within the industry to do that, ie having disabled models, it’s a viable way of changing things.

There’s intolerance from some disabled people towards disabled people who want to work in the fashion industry. It’s seen as a superficial aspiration, beneath them. But disabled people should be free to have the choice.

Disability needs familiarity. Even the contestants were nervous about meeting and living with other disabled people. Fear and prejudice around disability are so pervasive; even disabled people refer to other disabled people as “they”. Hundreds of thousands are watching the series and having their ideas on disability challenged.

I was looking at ads in Disability Now: a lot of disability products are really useful and help me out, but the way we’re so patronised by our ads - it’s like we’re expected to have lower standards in how we should look. There’s an ad for walking sticks to match your outfit. It’s a good idea but the guy in the ad had his tummy sticking out in profile, with dodgy shoes, and the girl next to him wasn’t styled nicely at all. It’s typical of the way disabled people are seen. Ads for disability products don’t have the same standards.

The more disabled I am, the more my clothes have to say something about me. People are going to have preconceptions, so if they see the 88 roses on my chair or my skull handbag or my butterfly tattoo, I influence how they see me.

I love burlesque: corsets, dramatic makeup, collars, hats with nets or flowers in my hair. I can go quite gothic and wear a lot of black and I can go punky or fetishy and wear a tight rubber jacket. I would never wear pastels or anything girly.

It upsets me that so many people think they can’t wear a hat, but then they try one on and change their mind. I design and sell fascinator hats; wearing them, I get a really positive reaction. If I wear a hat to a club, I’m non-stop talked to all night.

If you’re alive, celebrate! Don’t save your best underwear for special occasions. Wear all your favourite clothes as often as possible. I wear my hats to Sainsbury’s.

• Lara Masters was talking to Kelly Mullan