The Paradox of Visibility: Disability Inclusion in Fashion Media and Runways  

Fashion in the 21st century has been imbued with concerns about intersectionally diverse representation, with identity politics at the core of many conversations and critiques about the industry (Jobling, Nesbitt, and Wong 2022). Calls for diversity on runways and in fashion imagery have been met with varying levels of change, and the acceptance of the tall, thin, white, cisgender model as the standard has become challenged by a rise in racialized, plus size, and gender diverse models. Within this context, disabled women have experienced an increase in visibility in fashion media, with models like Aimee Mullins, Jillian Mercado, and Aariana Rose Phillip gaining global recognition, and brands like Moschino and Louis Vuitton featuring visibly disabled models[1] on their runways. However, moments of disability inclusion in luxury fashion are most often limited to one-off occasions and rarely translate to recurring opportunities for disabled models, maintaining a gap in significant disability representation within the dominant fashion industry. Even with the increase in adaptive fashion collections from mainstream American brands like Anthropologie and Tommy Hilfiger, this research finds that opportunities for disabled models remain minimal, most often relegating disability to commercial fashion or ancillary projects. These limitations have resulted in a distinction that upholds disability as something outside of mainstream fashion despite surface level representation and inclusion and makes clear a need for the dominant fashion industry to rethink its current approach. 

The current state of disability inclusion in fashion resulted in paradoxical feelings from disabled models, where they are at once grateful for the increase in work and opportunities to be welcomed into the fashion industry, yet disenchanted by the ongoing barriers that prevent genuine and long-lasting representation. Drawing from interviews with disabled models and industry professionals working in the New York fashion industry, this article explores the ways in which disabled models are categorized differently than non-disabled models, specifically focusing on their relegation to commercial modelling and adaptive fashion campaigns. Analysis reveals that the limitations imposed on disabled models and their continued separation into adaptive collection campaigns invokes complex feelings around the value of these jobs, amplifies the experiences of tokenism and marginalization, and maintains dominant narratives of disability as less desirable, while paradoxically contributing to conversations on the advancement of disability inclusion in fashion. Through a case study of the brand Collina Strada, this article considers how the fashion industry might work to integrate disability as valuable within, rather than outside of dominant fashion collections and imagery. 

The fashion model is central to the image of what is desirable within neoliberal capitalist frameworks of the body in fashion. Entwistle and Wissinger (2014) argue that models are integral to the development of consumer culture and the way commodities are sold. However, models are more than a tool to sell the latest fashions: they also maintain status as physical embodiments of ideal identities, representing beauty ideals, social perfection, and a mimesis of cultural values through conformity (Soley- Beltran 2012). The beauty standards embodied by fashion models perform “a visual code in which normative gender, class and ethnic identity prescriptions are inscribed,” influencing the desires and aspirations of global consumers (Soley-Beltran 2012, 97). The representation of models in fashion can act as an active indicator of social attitudes toward different groups, “a barometer of the current state of attitudes toward women, race and consumerism” (Entwistle and Wissinger 2014, 1). Through the reproduction of bodily ideals by models in fashion media, both standards of normativity and systemic erasure of bodies that fail to conform are maintained. 

Mears (2011) explains that the decisions brands make in casting models are not a passive response to consumer demands. Instead, brands hold the power to shape consumer taste and instill new cultural ideas about fashion and beauty. While it is largely believed that personal taste in fashion is driven by creativity and aesthetic preference, Godart and Mears (2009) argue that in casting fashion models, ideas about what is beautiful and trend-adjacent is a social response, wherein taste is imbued with socio-cultural influence surrounding desirability, acting as a means of distinction and reproducing hegemonic ideals. This is reflected in the fashion industry’s dominant favouring of models that are tall, thin, white, and non-disabled (Mears 2011). When models with visible bodily differences that challenge these standards are cast, they most often fall within certain norms and expectations: non-white models adhere to Eurocentric beauty standards (Mears 2011); transgender models fit within hegemonic standards of masculinity and femininity (Jobling, Nesbitt and Wong 2022); and plus-size models generally fit a size 8-16 (Czerniawski 2015), sizes that are smaller than or reflective of the average size of women North America (Mys Tyler 2024). This illustrates that, within fashion, what is considered desirable is developed through frameworks of exclusion toward race, gender, size, and other intersections of difference (Godart and Mears 2009). 

Neoliberalism values bodies that are self-sufficient, productive, and independent, while those who are not productive and not participating in late capitalism are understood as valueless. Dominant narratives have constructed disability as vulnerable, helpless, interdependent and in need of cure, therefore lacking value within a neoliberal capitalist system (Chandler and Rice 2013; Kafer 2013; Clare 2017). Grounded in ableism, these narratives construct a comparison of the disabled body against a mythical norm of perfection that dictates an understanding of which bodies are valuable and desirable (Mingus 2011b). These standards are upheld within fashion, where the disabled body is largely erased from that which is desirable and aspirational. When disability is included in fashion, the disabled body often undergoes a process of mainstreaming (Garland- Thomson 1996), made more palatable through an adherence to hegemonic standards of beauty and perfectionism that makes a body valuable within the logics of capitalism (Burton and Melkumova-Reynolds 2019; Foster and Pettinnichio 2022). Although there has been an increase in representations of disability in fashion in the last decade that may reflect a positive shift (Melkumova-Reynolds 2019), Burton and Melkumova- Reynolds (2019, 197) argue that such inclusion is less about “social, cultural, economic and political equality” than it is about “a neoliberal framework that seeks to commodify disabled bodies, assimilating them within the cult of consumer capitalism that abled bodies have long been bound to." Cultural representations of disability in fashion, popular media and advertising have reduced the disabled subject to smiling and joyful in spite of their failure to maintain normative standards, signalling that disabled people must live in their bodies with shame and apology and turn to curative solutions to fix their non-normativity or unruliness (Chandler and Rice 2013). In other words, the ways in which disabilities are represented in media and popular culture uphold these dominant narratives and represent a cultural precedence surrounding disability. 

Findings for this article are from a larger research project that explores how disabled models experience working in the dominant New York fashion industry. Through semi-structured interviews with disabled models working in New York, and with fashion industry professionals who have worked with disabled models, I investigated how models enter the industry, their treatment behind the scenes, the barriers that prevent greater access, and what changes must be implemented to provide this access in the future. Interviews were conducted virtually or in person, lasted approximately two hours, and were audio recorded and transcribed. Interview transcripts were analyzed using thematic analysis to code for themes surrounding industry experiences, barriers to access, and necessary industry changes. 

Participants were recruited through emails, personal communication via social media, and snowball sampling. This resulted in a sample of four visibly disabled models and six fashion industry professionals. The models were diverse in their disabilities, as well as their genders, races, and sexualities, while industry professionals were additionally diverse in their roles within the industry. Recruitment materials for models sought participants who identified as visibly disabled, and who had worked in the New York fashion industry. Visible disability referred to models whose disabilities could be seen in imagery, for example, those who used mobility aids, amputees, deaf people who had visible hearing aids, and people who had visible scarring from disability-related surgeries. This was a requirement because this research centres on the experiences within an image-based industry and relates to the effects of being a visible presence in fashion. The request was initially sent to agencies that represented visibly disabled models and was then shared by agents internally. It was also shared on Instagram and LinkedIn. For industry professionals, the request sought those who had worked at some capacity with disabled models in New York, including designers, photographers, stylists, agents, and casting professionals. Industry professionals were not required to identify as disabled. These requests were sent via email and shared on Instagram and LinkedIn. All requests asked that participants share it among their networks. 

While the sample for this research is limited, it reflects the small number of disabled models working in the New York fashion industry today. It also reflects the gatekept nature of the fashion industry which can be difficult to enter without being a direct participant (Mears 2014; Entwistle and Rocamora 2006). Although my previous work in the fashion industry afforded me connections in New York, my current position as a researcher rather than an industry member presented a challenge in re-entering exclusive industry spaces and gaining access to models and industry professionals. Despite a limited sample size, the stories shared in these interviews are valuable in establishing a greater discourse about disability in modelling within fashion studies. 

This research was approved by the Toronto Metropolitan University Research Ethics Board (REB# 2023-204) and The New School’s Institutional Research Board (BRANY IRB# 23-360-1244). I am not visibly or physically disabled and consider this and other aspects of my identity and lived experiences to have impacted my interactions with participants and the data. I recognize my positionality not as a challenge or benefit, but as part of my subjectivity that requires acknowledgement and reflection throughout the research (Reich 2021). As a practice of reflexivity, I offered member checking to participants to validate my observations and analyses, and ensure participants felt their words and experiences were accurately represented (Candela 2019). By centering participants’ voices and lived experiences through interviews, and engaging participants in the analytical process through member checking, I aim to centre the voices and experiences of disabled models who often do not have the opportunity to be heard in both fashion and academic spaces. 

This is illustrated by the relegation of visibly disabled models to the realm of commercial fashion modelling, and in the ways that disabled models’ careers progress differently than that of their non-disabled peers. 

Commercial modelling encompasses work for catalogues, mainstream fashion advertisements, and brand showrooms, whereas editorial modelling encompasses magazine spreads, runway shows and luxury brand campaigns—work that is often referred to as “high-fashion.” Although commercial jobs are higher paid than editorial, they are considered low brow in the world of fashion, with little value or prestige that can enhance the longevity of a model’s career (Mears 2011). Editorial models have “a look that departs from conventional norms of attractiveness. It is the uncanny, sitting on the border between beautiful and ugly, familiar and strange, at once attracting and repulsing its viewer” (Mears 2011, 42). Conversely, commercial models have a conventional look that aims to appeal to middle-class, conservative people with mainstream taste (Mears 2011). While this may seem to work against the logics of hegemonic beauty ideals, Mears (2011, 43) describes editorial fashion as “the beauty world reversed,” where commercial models hold little cultural value and editorial models are held as the unattainable beauty standard. However, this adds complexity to the understanding of beauty and disability. The language Mears (2011) uses to describe the positive cultural value of the editorial model look is similar to the derogatory language that has historically been attributed to the disabled body (Garland-Thomson 1996). This highlights that the cultural value of the disabled model is viewed separately than that of an able-bodied fashion model: when the appearance of an able-bodied fashion model is considered uncanny and strange, it is upheld as a signifier of beauty that is valuable and revered; when disability is added as an intersection of identity, the strange and uncanny becomes abject. Thus, disabled models must maintain a conventional standard of beauty to be palpable within fashion media and advertising, assimilating the disabled body to normative ideals rather than including disability in a way that centres the disabled experience (Burton and Melkumova-Reynolds 2019) and celebrates disability as culturally valuable and aspirational. This contributes to a naïve integration of disability in fashion, where disabled models are presented in ways that are sanitized and unidimensional, aligning their representation with a palatable, mainstream understanding of disabled beauty (Foster and Pettinnichio 2022). 

The agent Briauna, who founded a New York-based modelling agency that represents visibly disabled models among their diverse roster, found that the disabled models she represents are rarely requested for editorial jobs. She explained, “When we talk about luxury, or even contemporary fashion campaign imagery, I don’t see that as much.” This was echoed by Bri, a paraplegic model who uses a wheelchair, and works mostly commercial jobs: 

Growing up I really wanted to do high fashion. That was my dream. But I've found commercial modeling is way more open to disability. I think inclusion is much bigger in the commercial space, and the high fashion space is really lagging. I guess high fashion is not opening those doors in the same way. So I consider myself a commercial model, because that's what I do more often. 

These observations are evidence that opportunities for disabled models in editorial fashion are more limited than in commercial fashion. This limitation fails to set the standard that disability can be desirable and indicative of high taste and luxury by maintaining disability within the less prestigious realm of commercial modelling. 

Many participants felt that there was still value in the inclusion of disabled models in commercial fashion because it allowed for disabilities to be seen and understood by a larger audience than the demographic of editorial fashion. Richie, an agent who represents disabled and non-disabled models, said, “You see [disability] representation in the commercial space, and I think that's fantastic because it reaches the middle of America. I think that's super important.” However, the feelings surrounding this type of inclusion were complex: there was a common sense among participants that, although it was an opportunity to progress their careers and create space for greater inclusion in the future, it was painful to feel like a tool to advance an image of diverse inclusion for large brands who did not appear to value disability in their brand ethos. Their pride in being included was complicated by what many participants referred to as a lack of authenticity. According to participants, authenticity was manifested in the ways that imagery was shared—whether disabled models were photographed and represented in the same way as non-disabled models, and whether disability inclusion continued beyond a single collection or campaign. The model Bri said: “I think it's all about is it a singular moment? Or is it being integrated into every season, every line. Is there a throughline? And yeah, that can take some time to see, but it’s a big moment for us when we see someone who looks like us, so we're going to notice if that disappears.” 

Hillary, a designer whose brand has been lauded for consistently featuring disabled models, explained her feelings brought about by seeing brands utilize disability in inauthentic ways: 

It's inauthentic but, at the same time, it's either they're not using disabled models, or it's inauthentic and they are, so it's kind of a double-edged sword. I guess I want them to get the paycheque even though it looks like you're just using a disabled person to look good. But also, you're using a disabled person so at least they’re getting paid. 

Briauna echoed this: “It's kind of a problem because if models aren't authentically represented, then the representation that we see might not be reflective of what the real world is. But at the same time, we have to start somewhere.” 

These reflections illuminate a desire for disabled models and industry professionals to see disability break into the dominant fashion industry beyond the limitations of commercial modelling, even when they recognize that the jobs or representation might not accurately reflect disabled identities and instead be a product of a capitalistic desire to produce sales by aligning with diversity agendas. By “starting somewhere,” there’s a hope that the industry will begin to see the value and talent embedded in the disability community and eventually cast them in different ways beyond the commercial space. At the same time, it must be recognized that limiting the representation of disabled models to the logics of consumer capitalism through commercial beauty standards adheres to harmful narratives about disability, where the disabled body must be sanitized and differences nullified to be accepted (Melkumova-Reynolds 2019; Foster and Pettincchio 2022). 

In the rare instances where disabled models broke into the editorial sector, they still experienced different responses than able-bodied models. Aimee, who has two prosthetic legs, experienced success as a model beginning in the 1990s when she was featured on the cover of Dazed and Confused magazine, and soon after cast in the Spring/Summer 1999 Alexander McQueen runway show. She described the ways in which non-disabled people responded to her: 

People were coming up to me and saying things like, “you're just really beautiful. You really don't look disabled.” […] The subtext was an us and them paradigm. “You don't feel like one of them, you feel like one of us.” It was so palpable. […] Like, in other words, we're actually attracted to you, and we don't really know what to do with that. Like are we allowed to be attracted to you? 

These comments illustrate how the ableist policies and dominant cultural beliefs that compare the disabled body against a mythical norm of perfection come about in the real world (Mingus 2011b). Aimee’s experiences precede that of other participants who are working in the present-day industry. However, similar attitudes remain and can pose barriers to the careers of disabled models. For example, Bri shared an instance at a casting where she was told she was “the perfect model from the waist up,” highlighting that she would be considered within norms of perfection if not for the perceived failure of her disabled body. Following that casting, Bri did not get booked for the job. 

In other instances, disabled models who have broken into high fashion have experienced limitations in the progression of their careers that are notably different than that of their non-disabled peers. For example, Richie represents a model who uses a wheelchair that has been cast in major luxury brand campaigns, high-profile runway shows at New York Fashion Week, and prestigious editorial magazine cover stories. As an agent with over 20 years of experience, Richie recognized that this model’s career was not progressing or being celebrated in the same way that he had seen for non-disabled models after similar accomplishments. He explained, “If I was comparing her career, the accolades and what she's accomplished, to a traditional, able-bodied fashion model, she should be working so much more. […] You would be doing everything under the sun to cast her. And it didn't translate like that for her.” A model’s prestige is connected to the social status of the brands who book them, and models who book more shows or work with well-known designers and publications will be in higher demand (Godart and Mears 2009). Given that the model Richie represented had been cast in prominent runway shows and worked with major publications, following the logics of the dominant fashion system, it would be expected that she would continue to work steadily among other high-status models with similar experience. However, the lack of continuity in her bookings illustrates how disabled models are considered differently. While some brands and publications were open to embracing visibly disabled models, the lack of widespread and continued embrace for those who have proven themselves within the traditional mechanisms of fashion modelling suggests that the industry is not yet ready to part with hegemonic markers of value that currently drive the market. 

Participants spoke at length about disabled models’ work being limited to adaptive collections for brands that predominantly made non-adaptive clothing. Briauna said, “Disabled models are othered. And if they're in a campaign, it's usually an adaptive campaign, not a regular campaign. Not always, but there is this othering happening.” Richie expressed similar sentiments: “It’s not generally a consideration of putting anyone with a disability in a main campaign. It’ll be something ancillary.” These ancillary moments culminated in special issues or stories in magazines that celebrate disability or one-off campaigns that focus on a disabled model, but most frequently occurred through campaigns for adaptive collections. 

Participants described adaptive campaigns as valuable not only to the progression of a disabled model’s career, but also in the progression of disability visibility within the fashion industry. These jobs provided important experience for disabled models, generated more imagery for their portfolios, aligned them with well-known brands, and resulted in a paycheque. Moreover, participants felt that seeing more brands catering to disabilities through adaptive collections and the use of visibly disabled models may contribute to a shift in the way that disabilities are understood and accepted by fashion consumers. However, these feelings were complicated by the reality that, on the rare occasions when disabled models are included in high fashion, they are most often only afforded space where disability is the focus. In being cast only for adaptive collections, models felt they were being further tokenized. Bri said: 

I think if it's done right, it's amazing. But sometimes adaptive can actually be more tokenizing than non-adaptive. I think that when a brand is focused on integrating disabled people, they're not necessarily going to separate them with just an adaptive line. When I speak to a lot of people in the disabled community about adaptive, there's a lot of discomfort because it feels like separate but equal, in a lot of ways. 

This “separate but equal” mentality was illuminated by Briauna, recounting an experience where a disabled model she represented was booked for the main campaign of a brand that also offered an adaptive line. When the model arrived at the photoshoot, she was brought into a separate area from the non-disabled models that were shooting the main campaign and proceeded to be photographed only for the adaptive campaign. Briauna explained: 

The discussions leading up to it made me wonder if they changed something in the middle of the process, because it was like, “she’s going to be in the campaign.” I thought, this is amazing! This is going to be so well received, and amazing to not have disabled models separated. But then the campaign came out and she was separated, and I was like, what happened? I don't think they ever responded to me. [...] I had to look back too because I wanted to make sure like, was this the campaign or it was this adaptive campaign? And the discussions were about the campaign. So it was very confusing. 

The lack of communication surrounding where the model would be placed suggests the brand did not feel it was necessary to specify that the disabled model would be cast for the adaptive campaign. This demonstrates an attitude in the dominant fashion industry where it is widely accepted that disabled models should be separated in a way that highlights their disability, rather than integrating them into the dominant representation of fashion. This further maintains a narrative where disability exists as something outside of fashion and continues to be represented as such. 

Participants indicated that, much like the limitation of disabled models to commercial fashion spaces, the inclusion of disability only in adaptive collections did not equate to integration into the brand’s story or identity, but rather felt as though brands were using disabled models and adaptive lines as an opportunity to align with Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives on a surface level. This led some models to be selective about taking jobs for adaptive campaigns if they felt that there was little commitment to continued disability inclusion, or minimal acceptance of the disabled body as valuable and fashionable within their brand. For example, Jourdie had declined opportunities to work with a well-known brand for their adaptive collections because he felt that their adaptive lines were not fashionable or trendy in the same way that their mainline collections were. This made Jourdie feel that disability was an afterthought for the brand, and merely a way to symbolically align with DEI initiatives rather than an opportunity to present disability as fashionable. He shared, 

I refuse to work with them because one, I don't like the clothes, and two because I don't really think it's that genuine. […] Your clothes are ugly. Like, you just make clothes that scream disability. Where are the fashionable pieces? And also, do you really care? So that's what I don't want, is to be a tick on a diversity checkbox. 

This sense of tokenism was not only felt in the ways that disabled models were cast and photographed separately in adaptive campaigns, but also in the ways that their images were shared by brands. 

In my own observations, I too recognized this difference in the way brands advertised their adaptive collections and in the garments they offered. For example, Victoria’s Secret, known for their blockbuster fashion shows that draw millions of viewers, did not include their adaptive collection in their 2023 show. Instead, the adaptive collection was shown in a small, low-production presentation as a part of Runway of Dreams, a non-profit disability fashion foundation that presents adaptive collections during New York Fashion Week, but rarely draws in a mainstream fashion audience and bears a significant cost to attend. Moreover, Victoria’s Secret’s adaptive line offered simple, if not basic items with special accessible closures in a subdued colour palate. While the mainline at Victoria’s Secret offers a selection of basics similar to those in the adaptive collection, they are most known for their lingerie in lace, mesh, and satin, embellished with rhinestones, sequins, and embroidery with collection names such as “Very Sexy” and “Dream Angels.” Such items were missing from the adaptive collection’s runway show, with little attention paid to the fantasy and sex appeal that has underpinned the brand’s identity since its inception. The items offered in the adaptive collection highlight Jourdie’s observations that adaptive collections are generally boring and unfashionable compared to brands’ non-adaptive offerings, appearing as an afterthought or a “tick on a diversity checkbox” rather than a part of the brand as a whole. While Victoria’s Secret has been celebrated for their creation of an adaptive collection, the failure to include disabilities or adaptive garments on their main runways, and the simplicity and pragmatism in the design of items offered, suggests that the brand views disability as something outside of its identity, something that need not be celebrated or highlighted in the same way as their main collections. 

An increase in adaptive fashion campaigns from brands may indicate a positive shift in social attitudes toward the disabled body in fashion (Melkumova-Reynolds 2019), however, the limitation of where disabled models are included feels counterproductive to the progression of disability inclusion because it maintains disability as something separate from fashion rather than a part of it. Representing models in this way does little to challenge the dominant narratives of disability as undesirable. Chandler and Rice (2013, 234) argue, “Putting disabled […] people on display and premising people to stare at these bodies, registering them as different and marking them as aberrant teaches us, and our culture, how to approach disabled […] bodies.” This can be seen through the way that adaptive lines are received by consumers. For example, Bri’s images were shared on social media for two different brands that developed adaptive wear collections. Bri noticed a common response to these photos. She said: 

I saw comments online, and people were mad that I [modelled for them]. They were like, “she is not worthy.” Like “some bodies just shouldn't be in these spaces.” But then people would defend me by saying, “they're clothes specifically for disabled people, so it's okay that she's modeling them.” I appreciate them coming to my defense, but it's making it seem like it's only okay because I'm modelling disabled adaptive clothing. 

The responses to Bri’s inclusion in advertising illustrates that by limiting the casting of disabled models to adaptive collections, fashion contributes to a dominant binary where the non-disabled body is the standard to which the disabled body is held in contrast (Mingus 2011b), and premises consumers to accept these standards. In doing so, fashion adheres to harmful tropes surrounding disability, including the idea that the disabled body requires curative solutions—in this case adaptive fashion—to effectively participate in neoliberal capitalism (Kafer 2013; Clare; 2017; Hendren 2020). 

All participants in this study cited the New York-based brand Collina Strada, founded by the designer Hillary Taymour[2], as a key example of a high fashion brand that felt authentic in its inclusion of disabilities. 

This has led to a recurring cast of models that Hillary refers to as “a consistent family situation […] that are down to show up and get weird with me.” The inclusion of disabilities is not limited to Collina Strada’s runway shows: the brand also features disabled models in their advertising campaigns, on their e-commerce site, and on their social media platforms, integrating disabilities throughout the brand’s identity, despite not offering an adaptive collection in addition to their mainline. Hillary explained, “It's kind of just like, if you do it the right way, it's about consistency. And it's about trust and not being a gimmick.” Collina Strada’s approach to consistent disability inclusion throughout their brand is evidence of a feeling of authenticity cited by other participants, who sought integration and a “throughline,” rather than one-off moments or tokenistic approaches to ancillary collections. 

Richie represents a disabled model who has participated in many Collina Strada shows. He shared that Hillary and her production team spend significant time in dialogue with disabled models to ensure that runway spaces are accessible and that they will have adequate support to effectively participate in shows. Moreover, the cultivation of a “consistent family situation” at the brand has resulted in accessibility and inclusion being felt through a sense of community among the brand’s team. For example, as an attendee of the Spring/Summer 2025 runway show, I noticed non-disabled models take initiative to bring a model in a wheelchair into the dance party that occurred as a part of the show’s finale, helping her navigate the space, and allowing her to wheel back onto the runway to dance joyfully among the others, signaling that this model was an important part of the Collina Strada “family.” This type of care and support is reflective of the disability justice concept “access intimacy,” which describes feelings and experiences of people cultivating a deep understanding of a disabled person’s access needs and acting on them in a way that makes the person feel safe and connected (Mingus 2011a). Collina Strada’s commitment to accessibility and an inclusive environment behind the scenes demonstrates the brand’s desire to holistically integrate disability, creating consistent inclusion that feels true to the brand identity and to the people that represent it. 

Collina Strada’s continued commitment to disability inclusion impacted other facets of the New York fashion industry. For example, a Collina Strada garment that was worn by the disabled model Aariana Rose Phillip in the Spring/Summer 2023 runway show was accessioned into the permanent collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in 2023. The garment was shown in the Met Costume Institute’s Fall 2023 exhibition Women Dressing Women, which explored the legacy of the female fashion designers present in the museum’s permanent collection from the early 20th century to present day (The Metropolitan Museum of Art 2023). Displayed on a 3D printed mannequin that replicated Phillip’s body seated in her power wheelchair, the inclusion of the work exemplified how disability inclusion and integration into the dominant fashion system can have far-reaching impact. Hillary shared: 

I can cry thinking about that. Because if I didn't put her in those shows, that wouldn't have happened. […] It's so important, and such a huge step for fashion. […] Her likeness is there, and that's a huge part of history. I'm grateful that I can be a person that does that, and I'm super humbled by it, because it's so much bigger than me. I don't want to take any credit for it, but the fact that it got to come through me makes me feel like the work I'm doing isn't as meaningless as it feels sometimes. [...] it's such a beautiful celebration of everyone in the disability community. 

Figure 3

A view of the Metropolitan Museum of Art Costume Institute's 2023 exhibition Women Dressing Women, featuring a garment by Collina Strada. 

Figure 4

A 3D printed mannequin of the model Aariana Rose wearing garments by Collina Strada in the Metropolitan Museum of Art Costume Institute's 2023 exhibition Women Dressing Women. 

Disability inclusion at Collina Strada is a key example of the ways in which fashion brands and designers can integrate disability as valuable within, rather than outside of the dominant fashion system by continuously including disabled models within their brand imagery and identity, providing access, and fostering a fashion community that values and uplifts disabled models. 

Alongside an increase in diversity on runways and in fashion media, the representation of disability is increasing in the dominant fashion industry, with breakthrough models and celebrated moments of inclusion becoming more common. Yet, disability representation is still largely limited to the commercial space and adaptive fashion collections, establishing disability as less valuable within an industry based on image and desirability. This has created a culture where, although disability is included, it is done so in a way that contributes to neoliberal frameworks of inclusivity and maintains a narrative of disability as outside of fashionability. 

In an image-based industry driven by sales, brands may be fearful that aligning their main collections with disability could have a negative impact by representing bodies that have been associated with pity, abjection, and failure (McRuer 2006; Kafer 2013; Clare 2017) rather than desirability and aspirational beauty associated with non-disabled models. However, given that past scholarship on fashion modelling and media representation has uncovered the power of fashion brands to shift consumer desires through model castings (Mears 2011; Soley-Beltran 2012), it would be worthwhile for brands to move away from the separation of disability to aid in shifting perspectives. For example, if fashion were to follow Disability Justice frameworks, they may approach disability inclusion in a way that allows the disabled body to occupy space, challenge existing structures of normativity, and establish disability as desirable, rather than attempting to make disability normal within neoliberal capitalist frameworks (Chandler and Rice 2013; Clare 2017; Chandler and Ignagni 2018). While this suggestion may seem like a pipedream, there are already instances of brands beginning to shift disability representation in meaningful ways. Examples like Collina Strada illustrate the possibilities for fashion’s changemakers to push up against existing hegemonic frameworks by welcoming disability in as a part of their brand identities, signalling to consumers that disability can be fashionable and desirable rather than aberrant or other. 

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Author Bio

Article Citation

Nesbitt, Philippa. “The Paradox of Visibility: Disability Inclusion in Fashion Media and Runways.” Unravelling Fashion Narratives, special issue of Fashion Studies, vol. 5, no. 1, 2025, 1-20. 10.38055/UFN050105.