For all its overtures to self-expression, the style industry is probably less involved in beauty, and more involved in shielding itself from whatever it sees as ugly. Over the past couple of years, an increasingly diverse approach to casting has seen “curve”, POC, and trans models repositioned as figures of aspiration – but progress is never linear and the access afforded to some minority groups has only exacerbated the absence of others. Models with visible disabilities, for instance, rarely appear on high-end runways, seemingly destined to make tokenistic appearances in lingerie line-ups. This isn’t to make trite comparisons between the unique set of prejudices that different groups of individuals face, but to emphasize how real, radical inclusivity must involve everyone. 

Fashion isn’t proof against the structures of our time and there are clearly objections to showcasing clothing on non-normative bodies. The concept someone in a wheelchair is perhaps as desirable as Bella Hadid threatens the sort of hegemonic beauty standards that were etched into our subconscious by the Greco-Romans. How can fashion act as a type of resistance when its obsession with the body beautiful shores up ableism? So entrenched are these beliefs, that even despite a combined spending power of over £274 billion within the UK – and making up 24 per cent of the population – disabled people only make up 0.02 per cent of those featured in its campaigns. “Brands are scared since it’s unfamiliar,” says model and artist Emily Barker. “It’s an inconvenience for them to take into consideration access for runways and backstage spaces. We aren’t a priority.” 

“We at all times call it ‘the last taboo’,” says Laura Winson, the founding father of Zebedee Talent, an agency representing models with disabilities and visual differences. “It’s the last diverse characteristic that folks take into consideration after they’re trying to be inclusive. Designers are improving at size, race, and gender inclusivity, but disability continues to be at the underside of the list.” Through the SS23 edition of London Fashion Week, Winson’s team reached out to each brand on schedule but only managed to position 4 of its models in shows. “That’s the extent to who desires to be inclusive,” she adds. The barriers placed before disabled models aren’t just ideological, though – there are logistical and financial requirements that make an already resource-stretched designer reticent to place in extra work.

“Is there wheelchair access? Are the changing rooms large enough? Will an interpreter be there to assist with communication?,” Wilson says. “I need to get it to the purpose where casting teams or clients treat access requirements like dietary requirements.” It’s something Barker knows well, having modelled in Sinéad O’Dwyer’s shows, where an invigorating forged of disabled, fat, and gender non-conforming models set a hopeful precedent for future fashion weeks. But, even then, it felt like an uphill battle. “Taxis in London refused to choose me up for 40 minutes because I exploit a wheelchair. I had to cover and Osob (the casting assistant) needed to beg him to take us. On the venue, I waited for half-hour while the crew discovered the right way to get me inside after which I used to be verbally assaulted by someone using the incapacity stall for 10 mins after telling them I used a chair and really badly needed the restroom,” Barker says.

They were charged nearly £1,000 for a three-night stay in an “accessible” bedroom at The Standard hotel in London, which they are saying was nearly thrice the value of an everyday one. “It’s unimaginable to search out places for wheelchair users to make use of in comfort, much less at any reasonable cost. The carpets were so plush, and the rooms so terribly designed, that I strained my shoulders and neck, giving me a migraine on the day of the show.” For this reason, Barker ended up staying in a cramped, inaccessible room, unable to shut the lavatory door, use the shower, or get into bed. And yet, it was a sacrifice price taking with a view to work with a designer as unique as O’Dwyer. “I is not going to stop going to latest places and taking over exciting gigs due to access and assholes,” Barker says. “I really like doing runway shows and I really like working with designers whose clothes and vision I think in.”

On the forefront of a latest generation of casting directors is Emma Matell, who collaborated with O’Dwyer on her fashion week debut. “It’s really about doing all your research,” she says. “There are 14 million disabled people within the UK, it’s the largest minority. And in case you’re knowledgeable casting director, the research shouldn’t take very long. Why is it still widely accepted to run an 80-look show on one singular body type?” For her, the concept of “ethical casting” extends beyond the booking process, too, ensuring all pronouns are communicated to the broader team, checking who and who isn’t comfortable with showing skin, and prioritising transparency in every conversation. “It’s all a learning curve and I’m often in difficult situations, but I look for tactics to make what’s a really brutal process way more comfortable,” they add. “It’s more rewarding than it’s difficult.” 

‘I lose out on making any money from gigs because wheelchair-accessible accommodations are expensive. I’m also not allowed to generate profits or I lose my SSI (Supplemental Security Income)’ – Emily Barker, artist and model

Though Matell can hold her clients to account, the success of a show will at all times fall on the designer’s shoulders – using unconventional models is all well and good, but does the clothing actually fit them? The rise of bigger-bodied models, for instance, has seen a windfall of poorly-made mini skirts, stretch fabrics, and unshapely maxi dresses: making any attempt at diversity a tokenistic one. “Fairly than attempt to fit the model in the garments, Sinéad tries to suit the garments to the model. Which means taking measurements on one and all coming for a casting and dealing with charts to know proportions and the way each garment goes to suit,” Matell explains. And on the subject of working with disabled models, designers have to exercise much more care and consideration. “Designers don’t understand that clothes fit in another way on someone sitting in a wheelchair and so put us in unflattering garments,” Barker says.“I’m not very comfortable highlighting the atrophy attributable to my disease – CRPS – and like clothes which can be flattering to my figure. I need to look as hot as possible.”

“We were all made to feel so beautiful. My heart has been glowing ever since and I’m in complete awe,” says Naadirah Qazi, a musician and model who was previously made to feel “totally invisible on this industry, no matter work ethic or ambition.” The choice to forged Qazi, a first-time model, feels more consistent with the values of progress than inviting an already-established ambassador to look within the show – very similar to Ahsley Graham, Andrea Pejic, or Aaron Philip, who has fronted Moschino and Collina Strada, inclusion tends to be spearheaded by a small rotation of radical figureheads. As obligatory as these ambassadors are, they often find yourself closeted from the on a regular basis lives of their community, insulated by wealth and celebrity. “I lose out on making any money from gigs because wheelchair-accessible accommodations are expensive,” Barker says. “I’m also not allowed to generate profits or I lose my SSI (Supplemental Security Income)” – an archaic programme that robs disabled people of health insurance, caregivers, and an already measly allowance should they tackle “gainful activity”… including having children.

With so many disabled creatives living in a state of enforced poverty, access and inclusion can’t be divorced from austerity politics. “I hope my friends are in a position to make more and pay me without it being difficult soon, because I really like them and their work,” they proceed. “The priority for me is the experience.” Neither Barker, Qazi, or Matell consider that disabled people will make the identical progress as other minority models at any point soon. Winson, nevertheless, stays hopeful. “I can only be positive about this. Within the five years since we’ve launched, we’ve seen a 20-fold increase within the variety of disabled models featured in promoting. With emerging designers – and us – pushing for inclusivity, there’s no way we will possibly return.”