Accessible Style Now!

If you've ever tried to find a wedding outfit that works with a wheelchair, a feeding tube or limited hand movement, you'll know how short the list is. The adaptive clothing that does exist is often practical but plain, hard to track down, and made in only a handful of styles. So when ASOS launched its first adaptive range this week, many Disabled shoppers were relieved. The launch also raises an uncomfortable question the fashion industry has been slow to face: what happens when the most affordable route to accessible clothing runs through a fast-fashion business model?

The collection took two years to make, working with Sinéad Burke's accessibility consultancy Tilting the Lens. It began with more than 100 Disabled people, paid for their time, describing what was going wrong. They said adaptive clothes were difficult to find, rarely stylish and in short supply, and that websites, customer service, packaging and delivery could each be a barrier. Above all, they wanted clothes for the office and for big occasions. Those same people then stayed involved, joining design and fitting sessions, shaping how customer complaints are handled, and helping rewrite product descriptions so shoppers can tell at a glance whether something will work for their body.

The resulting 51 pieces cover men's, women's and curve sizes from XS to 3XL, priced between £32 and £65. There are printed maxi dresses with a hidden pocket for a phone and side-seam openings for tubes, and a jersey wrap dress with no fastenings at all. Suits close with magnets rather than buttons. Trousers are cut higher at the back and lower at the front for people who are seated for most of the day. Items with magnets carry a warning for anyone with a pacemaker.

While innovation is important, there is always the sustainability question. Fast fashion, which ASOS undeniably constitutes, is rightly criticised for waste, emissions and the pressure it creates to keep buying. The usual advice is to buy less and buy better, choosing well-made pieces, second-hand finds or garments you can mend. But that advice assumes choices many Disabled people don't have. Disabled households face higher everyday costs and are more likely to live on lower incomes. According to disability charity Scope's Disability Price Tag research, Disabled households need an extra £1,095 a month on average just to have the same standard of living as non-disabled households. Adaptive pieces rarely turn up in charity shops. Having a tailor alter a garment costs money and energy that aren't always available. Burke hasn't avoided this tension. She has acknowledged that the collection will prompt fair challenges on sustainability and quality, but her argument is that if we want Disabled people in workplaces, they need something affordable to wear to work now, not in some better future. When ethical fashion is expensive and sold by a small number of brands, telling Disabled people to wait for the sustainable option is really telling them to go without.

Both concerns are valid, and neither should cancel the other out. Accessibility shouldn't be a luxury, and sustainability shouldn't be available only to people who are wealthy and non-disabled. The real test for ASOS, and for the brands watching it, is what happens next. That means building adaptive features into mainstream lines, making pieces that last, and offering repairs. Sales of this first collection will shape whether that future arrives. For readers who have waited years for clothes that look as good as they work, supporting it may be the most practical step towards something better.