Adaptive fashion in everyday life: what clothing really needs to deliver

A zipper that is hard to grip. A jacket that does not fit over an orthotic device. Pants that look good when standing, but are no longer comfortable when sitting. What may sound like small details can determine whether a piece of clothing works well in everyday life – or ends up staying in the closet.

This is exactly what the experiences of Katharina Hesener, Lea Menninger, and Claire Horsbrugh show. Their clothing needs differ depending on their assistive devices, their bodies, and their daily routines. At the same time, certain problems come up for all three: fits that were never designed with them in mind, impractical fastenings, and a lack of flexibility in cuts and materials.

There is no single adaptive solution that works for everyone. But there are recurring barriers – and they show exactly what clothing really needs to deliver in everyday life.

One of these barriers begins for Lea as soon as winter sets in. That is when she needs long pants to keep warm. At the same time, her clothing has to work with the functional electrical stimulation system (FES system) on her upper and lower legs. If something shifts out of place or she cannot access the technology quickly enough, an outfit can easily become a burden in everyday life. She often has to weigh her options: does the clothing work with her assistive device – or is it easier to go without at least the upper parts of her FES system?

Claire faces similar challenges with winter jackets: sleeves often do not fit over her orthotic device, zippers can be difficult to grip, and pants also need to be cut wide enough to work with her assistive devices. Many of these issues could be eased with simple adjustments.

Katharina adds another perspective: in a wheelchair, the fit, length, and overall feel of clothing change fundamentally. Pants can become too short, slip down, or feel uncomfortable when seated. Jackets ride up and often do not fit well across the back or neck. On top of that, fabrics and seams can quickly become problematic when pressure, friction, or limited mobility come into play.

"Practical solutions are generally a good thing – but not if I don’t see myself in them." For Lea, this is a key point. Adaptive clothing often feels as though a younger target group was never really considered. She is not looking for a 'special' look, but for fashion that works with her assistive devices while still reflecting her personal style.

Trends also play a role. Claire explains that wide-leg pants recently made many things easier for her, because her orthotic devices fit comfortably underneath. If fashion shifts back to tighter cuts, those options quickly become more limited. There are also solutions that may be helpful in everyday life but do not necessarily feel right. Maternity pants that can work well for wheelchair users are one example: practical, yes – but not necessarily something younger people would choose right away.

Katharina puts it more fundamentally: adaptive clothing often seems either purely functional or purely fashionable – but rarely both at the same time. And that is exactly the problem. Because when people choose what to wear, they do not only want something that works; they also want to recognize themselves in it. Everyday usability therefore does not end with closures, fabrics, or cuts. It also includes whether an outfit fits someone’s personal style, age, and life.

Often, it is simple adjustments that can make clothing much more practical in everyday life.

For Claire, that could mean larger zipper pulls, grip rings on zippers, or cuts that allow more room for orthotic devices and other assistive devices. Especially with jackets, pants, or closures, these details can determine whether she can dress independently or needs help. Katharina mentions similar practical ideas: pants with elastic waistbands, softer fabrics, or cuts that adapt better to a seated position and do not press, slip, or ride up.

Lea also imagines many solutions directly from her own daily experiences. She would like pants that can open fully at the sides; underwear that offers more security in cases of mild incontinence; and sports bras that are easier to put on and take off.

Behind all of this is the same expectation: clothing should not just fit somehow, but be designed to work with bodies, assistive devices, and movement.

Good solutions therefore do not always require complex custom designs. Claire points to small design changes, Lea to everyday-ready and fashionable improvements, and Katharina to cuts that look good – including when seated. That may be the most important point: truly helpful adaptive fashion often begins not with a major reinvention, but with taking a closer look.

For all three women, one thing is clear: good adaptive fashion does not emerge when companies only ask for feedback at the very end. Lea would like to see the actual target group involved much earlier in development and design – not just symbolically, but at the point where cuts, functions, and requirements are actually decided.

Claire also points out that many improvements would neither be complicated nor expensive. In her view, the problem is often not a lack of possibilities, but a lack of genuine interest in taking a closer look and considering meaningful adjustments. That is why the biggest difference is often not made by major innovations, but by solutions that take real needs into account from the very beginning.

Katharina broadens the perspective even further: inclusive fashion is not only useful for people with disabilities or chronic conditions – in the end, everyone can benefit from it. Clothing that is easier to put on, fits better, or adapts more flexibly to different bodies and situations can become relevant for many people in everyday life.

"There are, of course, personal hacks you learn along the way. But fashion should really be designed in a way that makes those kinds of improvisations unnecessary. Fashion should be for everyone."

Published on: March 16, 2026