Adaptive, a Niche Market for the Outcast?

Honest reflections on disability, fashion and belonging.

As I finished the second season of the Netflix series Wednesday, the division between the groups “normies” and “outcasts” became a clear metaphor for real life — for those who fit within societal norms and those who are different or misunderstood.

In my own reality, I connected this concept to people with “socially accepted physiques” and those with disabilities.

Although my parents made great efforts to ensure I didn’t grow up feeling like an outcast because of their disability (this is another topic I will write about..), I witnessed many challenges they faced. Some were physical: trying not to lose balance on a small ramp at a store entrance, or avoiding a stumble over uneven bricks on the sidewalk — a scene my mother always dreaded. Others were social, like the intrusive comments from strangers: “What’s wrong with your leg when your face is beautiful?” As if beauty and disability did not coexist in their mind.

One of the most frustrating incidents was the repeated vandalism of my parents’ brand-new Hyundai Dynasty sedan in the early 2000s. Someone kept puncturing the tires. The city had recently introduced parking spots for people with disabilities, and one happened to be right in front of our apartment building. Whoever did it clearly resented that my parents — both disabled — could park in the best spot, and that they drove an expensive car. The combination of “disability” and “wealth” was another mismatch people around us couldn’t seem to accept.

Years later, when I began developing a business idea for an Adaptive clothing line, these same biases surfaced again. While discussing my financial plan with a friend in finance, he immediately noted that adding adaptive features would raise production costs and lower profit margins — fair enough. But then he added, “People with disabilities won’t be able to afford those clothes.”

He assumed all people with disabilities were poor.

Later, while working on an Adaptive collection for a company, a colleague told me, “People with disabilities have a lot of disposable income because of government support — Adaptive clothing could make great profit.”

In my experience, both assumptions were wrong. My mother, despite enduring years of surgeries and physical challenges, was not eligible for any government aid. She wasn’t considered “disabled enough.” It wasn’t enough that she risked falling in an icy parking lot just to reach the office where she needed to apply for a parking pass.

When I was not understood by my colleagues or friends, I felt like an outcasts. I wonder if that is how my parents felt their whole lives.

It makes me wonder — what do people really think of when they hear the word disability?

For me, it’s a physical difference we all have, not something society should define as “normal” or “not.”

If you’ve lived with disability yourself, or loved someone who has — or if you’ve ever felt like an “outcast” in your own way — I’d love to hear how you see it. Share your thoughts or experiences below; maybe, in conversation, we can start to redefine what belonging really means.