Shaping up to look good

Fashion is seen as something marginal in the lives of disabled people. We look at the images of the catwalks in Paris, Milan and New York with emaciated bodies wearing histrionic clothing costing ludicrous sums and question how we can relate to this.

Yet, for many disabled people our impairments mean that we have far more in common with the catwalk than we could possibly imagine. Body shapes and sensory perceptions that heighten our profile and accentuate difference define us. I am not able to retreat into a world of anonymous conformity.

When I was a teen I bought a pink sweater. My father told me not to wear it as it made me conspicuous to which I replied that even if I wore the least flamboyant clothes, as a person of restricted growth I would always be very noticeable so I might just as well wear what I wanted.

I grew up in a fashion-conscious family and from an early age was aware of the power of clothing. Clothes are both camouflage and statement. They are both profound and superficial. They show that we belong and yet we have our own independence of spirit. Clothes can provide us with any number of images to present to the world, drawing on a creative melting pot of influences. For example, you have a meeting. You could look neat and conventional or you could choose bright and assertive. Your clothes set the agenda.

Yet the relationship between the disabled person and fashion has historically been a tortuous one. Look at a picture of a residential establishment and the disabled people would all be wearing similar clothes, dull colours, possibly striped. Garments were the symbol of subordination and control. Looking through archive photos of disabled people one sees elegant dignitaries patronising the dowdy disabled. Even in the post institutional era, clothes would be cast-offs frequently chosen by others.

Our appearance doesn’t have to be something we’re ashamed of, but could and should be a celebration of strength and dignity. The fashion media has assiduously avoided suggesting that disabled people have any relationship with style. Disabled people were deemed too ugly. This orthodoxy was briefly challenged in the late ‘90s.

The style magazine Dazed and Confused in late 1998 had a fashion shoot of disabled people (above) wearing outfits designed by top fashion designers including Alexander McQueen, with the photography undertaken

by Nick Knight, a doyen of fashion shoots. These were stylish clothes presented in stylish images suggesting alternative ways of defining beauty. For a short period, there was interest in the idea that disabled people could be stylish and fashionable.

I became involved in an inclusive fashion show entitled, “In our Fashion”, in 2001. This was organised in London by the arts access organisation, Artsline. Top designers would create designs for disabled models. It was an exciting period, with newspaper articles and radio broadcasts. Disability fashion had become a serious issue with the clothing retail forum Awear being established in Nottingham, and local organisations ran inclusive fashion shows. There was even the possibility that major retailers would start to address the issue.

This sadly amounted to nothing. There has never been a major inclusive fashion show since and nor has a major style or fashion paper or magazine looked at disabled people as worthy of coverage. A lack of will and financial failure were the prime causes. “In our Fashion” was an honourable failure.

Things need to be done urgently to regain the lost momentum. Despite two Disability Discrimination Acts, little has been done to make the fashion retail environment any more inclusive or accessible. In many boutiques, style seems to equal stairs, poor lighting and an absence of signage. Designers are still loath, with a few honourable exceptions, to use the challenges of different bodies and sensory perspectives in a challenging way that
could have genuine applications for all.

Disabled people need to revel in our thrilling differences. The world may need redesigning but in the meantime let’s celebrate by acknowledging our style and poise. Disabled people must be an equal part of a style-conscious world. Let’s put on our glad rags and join the party.