Jessica PingAs a disabled model, it was a dream come true to be asked to walk a runway during London Fashion Week. But as incredible as the experience was, it showed me how much work still needs to be done within the fashion industry to be a truly inclusive space for the disability community.
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March 2022
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Introduction: My Secret Obsession With London Fashion Week
Me and London Fashion Week go wayyyy back.
I’m talking at least a decade of dedicated outfit stalking here.
Even though I grew up in the middle of nowhere Illinois, when I was in high school, I would always turn to the world’s top fashion blogs during London Fashion Week. As an American, I know my particular affinity for London Fashion Week over New York Fashion Week must seem strange. But thanks to One Direction, I was a complete anglophile at age 15.
When I later studied abroad during my junior year of college, I chose to go to London over several other locations. There were a lot of reasons to choose London, but if I said that the fashion and entertainment industries hadn’t massively impacted my decision, I’d be lying.
When London Fashion Week began, I spent an absurd amount of time wandering the city streets hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the hot looks of the upcoming season. 20-year-old Jess was living the life that 15-year-old Jess could literally only dream about.
Less than 5 years later, I am now an adult who lives in central London full-time as an agency signed model. I was actually put up for a runway show during the September 2021 event but I ultimately didn’t book it. Instead, I watched on once again from my computer, only ~slightly~ devastated that I wasn’t a part of the magic.
In January 2022, I was determined to not sit on the sidelines again. So, I made a sassy little reel on Instagram and kept my eyes peeled.
1 week later, a model friend of mine sent me a casting opportunity, and within 2 weeks, my prosthetic and I were strutting our stuff on the catwalk.
The London Fashion Week “Look”
When I walked into the venue on runway day, I was a rolling ball of anxiety. The show didn’t start until 6 PM, but the models were all asked to arrive at noon. Despite my nerves, I also couldn’t deny how excited I was for the day ahead.
My excitement quickly transitioned into fear when I entered the holding room. I was the only visibly disabled model present. Not only that, but I was the only female model who was under 5’9″ and bigger than a UK size 6.
I am used to being the only one in the room, but I’m not used to being in a room surrounded by women who all look the same.
I timidly approached the check-in area and found out that my name wasn’t on the list. (As if I needed another reason to feel like I wasn’t welcome.) But the two women assured me that it was probably just a clerical error and that they would be out to collect me soon for my fittings. At this time, I was also told that all of the models were expected to wear at least 6 different designs for the show, with the potential to wear up to 10.
So, with that step complete, I sat back and waited.
I waited for an hour, constantly watching as other models were called back for their fittings. During this time, I sat completely alone. None of the other models chose to sit near me and hardly any of them even returned my friendly smiles.
This became so discouraging that I eventually texted my husband, Jack, asking if I should even stay.
As I awaited his reply, the event organizers announced that now that all the women were done with their fittings, they should go start getting their hair and makeup done.
EXCUSE ME, NOT ALL OF THE WOMEN HAVE FINISHED THEIR FITTINGS!
I was about to roll my wheelchair over to the organizers, but I didn’t get the chance. A kind man who was working BTS on the event shouted across the room, “THIS WOMAN HASN’T BEEN FITTED YET!”
I wanted to evaporate.
While deep down I know this man’s intentions were pure, I was mortified. I was already drawing enough negative attention being the only one carrying their leg around in their arms and all. And now everyone in the room simultaneously twisted their heads to gape at me with the look that I hate the most: pity.
The organizers came over and apologized and then told me they’d be back in a couple of minutes to lead me to the fitting area. I sat back, still feeling incredibly uncomfortable.
Jack’s message lit up my phone screen at this moment. “Just give it time, I’m sure it will all work itself out.”
I rolled my eyes, but stayed put, waiting once again for some guidance.
5 minutes later, someone new came up to me and apologized because they seemed to have run into another small issue…
The Fittings Were Taking Place In An Inaccessible Area
I was truly too stunned to speak. Once again, I was promised that they would figure out what to do quickly and then get back to me.
If I didn’t feel out of place before, I sure as hell did now.
After another couple of minutes passed, I was led to an elevator. As we rode up, the organizer said the following, “I’m so sorry, you should have been brought up here straight away. This is where all of the other disabled models are waiting.”
Equal parts relieved and annoyed, I exited the lift and entered the room to find several other disabled models, a snack table, an ironing area, and a hair and makeup station.
A designer came up to me immediately and introduced themself. They told me that they were so excited to have me there to help model their adaptive fashion line.
With that one word, I understood my role for the day.
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My instincts were right. I wasn’t welcome downstairs. The fashion industry didn’t want me.
There were 16 designers at this event. As stated above, every non-disabled model was asked to walk for at least 6 of them. But myself and my fellow disabled models were only asked to model for one. The one that is literally making clothing specifically for us and our demographic.
This is not diversity and inclusion.
Were we at the event? Yes.
Were we on the runway. Yes.
But were we included? No.
True inclusion would have blurred the lines between the non-disabled and disabled models. If the event really wanted to be inclusive, then we should have been asked to model for the other designers too. Integration is a massive part of authentic representation.
If true inclusion had been the priority, we wouldn’t have been stuffed into a multi-purpose room away from all of the other models and designers taking part in the event. We would have been in the same room, making real connections, and being treated like equal worthy professional human beings.
But, most importantly, if true inclusion was the goal, we would not have been treated like an afterthought, inconvenience, or burden by anyone at the event.
We would have been welcomed and gifted the same amount of respect as everyone else.
But that didn’t happen.
Showtime: First In, First Out
As we waited backstage to take the runway, I remember a whole slew of emotions going on inside my head.
The first was pride.
Call it manifestation, hard work, pure luck, or some fun combination of the three, but I did it. I was about to live out one of my wildest dreams.
Another was anxiety.
Call it cliche, but I all but convinced myself that I was going to fall over or that my prosthetic was going to come flying off during the show. (Neither happened, though my leg did twist around a significant amount while walking the runway).
But I also felt frustrated.
You see, we opened the show. And while I understand that this is normally a coveted spot, it communicated a different vibe entirely.
By going out first and never being featured again, it felt as if we were the opening act to the main event. Like we weren’t worth the same level of attention as everything that followed.
EXTRA! EXTRA! You CAN’T Read All About It
But I think what further pinpoints my sentiments surrounding this lackluster appreciation for the disability community at this event is the lack of media attention we got after the show.
There were DOZENS of photographers in attendance and an unknown amount of fashion bloggers. Yet, I’ve only received a handful of photos from the event and only one video from a fellow disabled model.
The day after the runway, the brand I walked for invited me to their official rostered London Fashion Week Press Event.
The whole point of this event was to open up a conversation to discuss inclusivity and adaptive design in the fashion industry. But it’s now a month later, and I am struggling to find much press covering the event at all.
Adaptive fashion is revolutionary. Disability representation is only just becoming a big thing in the fashion and entertainment industries.
THIS EVENT WAS NEWS!
But it wasn’t given the same amount of coverage as other parts of fashion week.
And that is a true shame.
Final Thoughts on my London Fashion Week Experience
So why have I written this long blog post on my London Fashion Week Experience?
As usual, for several reasons…
- It was freaking epic.
- To show our positive progress towards a more inclusive world.
- To let you know that we, the disability community, are no where near done fighting for our right to live and exist in the same way as our non-disabled peers get to do everyday.
At the end of the day, I had a fabulous time.
I would do it again in a heartbeat, though I’d probably ask for payment next time.
BUT, I think it’s important that I share this experience so no one sees that I, a very vocal disability advocate, participated in London Fashion Week and thinks that this means that true inclusion and authentic representation have been accomplished.
They haven’t been. Trust me.
But we are headed in the right direction.
I’m so so grateful for my experience and to every person I had the pleasure of meeting at these events.
Here’s hoping I get to continue to live in this fantasy world where little ole me from small Townsville, Illinois gets to participate in events as amazing an iconic as London Fashion Week.
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