‘I love looking vibrant, but there’s so much I can no longer wear’
A wheelchair-bound woman wants fashion for disabled people, she tells
What are you wearing today? Your favourite colour? A smart jacket? What we wear is, generally, a conscious decision. More than that there is some degree of choice in what we put on every single day. We can then buy something new if we need it, we can go online and be wearing that very garment within hours. We can slip into something to shift an outfit from day to night.
Now imagine you live with a disability that renders you wheelchairbound. Your day is mostly spent sitting down, come rain or shine, heatwave or snow. In fashion terms, your greatest accessory is a wheelchair – your lifeline, yes, but also a constant reminder that you are different.
Faduma Farah, 45, was left wheelchair-bound, paralysed from the neck down, after a bout of meningitis was missed in 2011. “It was a normal day in London, I was a mother and I had a job. I remember I had a massive headache and somehow I found my way to hospital,” she remembers. Eleven months later, she woke to learn she had been in a coma all that time, that she’d died three times and was disabled from the neck down. Her whole life had changed.
“You get home from the hospital and you have no help, no idea of what to do next. We had a cup of tea. It was just me, my husband and the four walls.”
Defying many of the odds stacked against her, Faduma overcame part of her paralysis and, with grit and determination, built up muscular function in her upper body. “Lots of theraband work, I’m sure the doctors thought I was so stubborn, but look!”
When we meet in her home in Fulham, it’s a sweltering day. I’ve removed my jacket and I’m relieved to be wearing a breathable cotton T-shirt underneath. Upon arrival, I’m met by a carer. Faduma is downstairs, with a second carer, applying her make-up. A
‘Think about us and see all the problems we face when it comes to clothing’
hoist hangs from a rail that runs across the ceiling.
We bond over make-up foundation sponges (“No one makes them big enough, Ginnie! I need them to be the size of a tennis ball so I can grip them...”) and which is the best eyelash curler on the market. I lend her my Charlotte Tilbury blush-stick. She wants to look her best for the photographer. Her hijab adds the finishing touch; the easiest way for her to wear colour. Today’s is floral, pinned with a pearl brooch. Her lipstick is a perfect shade of rose.
“I love looking vibrant and glamorous ... I really miss wearing an Indian sari. I can’t wear it any more. Too many layers that rub,” she confides. So instead, she is wearing a blush pink polyester top from plus-size brand Evans and black leggings. “Leggings and blouses. Always black leggings. I like to hide my bag.” Hers is a capsule wardrobe but not through choice. Hiding catheters, preventing sores – these considerations come before style.
“I am limited. I look for comfort or something I can adapt. I have a bit of a snip at the back. I put it on like an apron. Because of the way I sit, my shoulders curve in – it’s like I’m on a motorbike – so most of the clothes are tight. They are made for a standard, straight posture, of course...”
“So you buy clothes, then you cut the clothes at various points? They might unravel after the second or third wash so you throw them away?” I clarify. She nods, as if to say, what else can I do?
That level of frustration was the catalyst for Faduma’s Fellowship, a nationwide competition to find a designer to create and produce a collection of garments for wheelchair users. Through this project, people like Faduma are no longer an afterthought, they are at the heart of the process. (I was fortunate enough to join the judging panel.)
The winner is Harriet Ecclestone, a Northumbria University graduate and former pattern cutter at Paul Smith. She used the research of twins Rebecca and Melissa Everett which, funded by the Stroke Association, focused on those with restricted movement post-trauma. Ecclestone’s use of fastenings (magnets, and nothing that rubs), fabrics (that breathe) and uplifting colours (black is not the only option) was inspiring, but also very moving.
To see these entries, some from wheelchair users themselves, made me feel irritated with the fashion world I work in. How has it taken so long to get to this? Mainstream fashion simply does not cater for the 1.2 million wheelchair users in the UK. It is a forgotten audience.
Ecclestone is well aware of this turning point. “The more I am learning and experiencing [with Faduma], the more I see how important this project is.”
Her colourful collection was presented on Sunday at London Fashion Week. A 12-piece show with a small budget, funded by Faduma, modelled by able-bodied and other-abled models and watched by members of the press, including a staff member from American Vogue after Anna Wintour was contacted.
I ask Faduma which stores she misses shopping at the most. “Zara, I really used to love Zara. I miss Marks and Spencer, John Lewis. I can go into these stores but I can’t shop for myself.”
I ask her to imagine the chiefs of her favourite brands gathered in one room. What would she say to them? “Put on my shoes – put on our shoes. We are a big community. Just think about us for five
minutes and see all the problems we face when it comes to clothing.”
A ramp or a disabled bathroom in store doesn’t feel enough any more. Wheelchair users can access the stores, yes, but their first thought when it comes to the fashion is, how can I cut this to fit me?
In a world of growing inclusion, it seems absurd that maternity wear, which is useful for about 12 months at most, is an entity in its own right, with its own department in store, yet adaptive wear is almost nonexistent for those who rely on a wheelchair for life.
“I’ve sat down for 11 years, Ginnie,” says Faduma. “I just want to enjoy my clothes again.”
In 2021 wheelchair-friendly fashion should not be taboo. At the very least it could form part of fashion school curriculums. And it should be available in our biggest high street stores.
Hopefully, thanks to Faduma’s Fellowship, soon everyone will have the opportunity to dress stylishly – and comfortably.