Hannah Smith Reframes Couture with Disability-led Design

The designer’s latest collection speaks to the poetic power of movement, the fluidity of the body, and the beautiful complexities of disability.

Words by Karma Casto

Alice Dyer modelling for Hannah Smith at Central Saint Martins BA Fashion Show, photographed by Karma Casto, 2025.

Fashion is a language—a way of speaking the body’s narrative. But for Hannah Smith, the conversation hasn’t always been inclusive. Her debut collection, The Gentle Frame, draws from her brother’s own experiences. “The first seed of inspiration was planted by my brother,” she says. “He has a condition called neurofibromatosis type 2. It’s degenerative, so it worsens over time. Because of this, he has experienced physical disability, hearing impairment, and chronic pain. Seeing those experiences first-hand made me realise how much of this world is not built for certain people.” Even when the rest of the world has nothing to offer, there is still tenderness in the things that hold us tight — fences, corsets, crutches. Smith explores medical aids as extensions of the body and blueprints of possibility. “There’s so much conceptual potential in designing for bodies with different needs,” she reflects. Across six looks, she uses these supports, not to bind, but to contour the body—listening to its posture, its stillness, and its weight.

“I don’t want my designs to exist in an echo chamber where only those affected are engaging with the messages. I want it to reach as many people as possible.” – Hannah Smith

The collection takes its first breath at the threshold of an unyielding, wrought-iron gate—often associated with restriction, security, and protection. But cast in streetlight against the pavement, its rigidity is momentarily undone—diffused into something lax and settling onto the concrete like sleet. This coexistence — hard and soft — forms Smith’s visual and material language. She takes the harsh contours of the city and fossilises them in cloth: airbrushed gates on coffee-stained muslin, raw threads trapped between sheers like ivy caught in fencing, and tendrils of loose latticework slipping down the body like vines or veins.

This delicate dance between hard and soft is a recurring motif in Smith’s work—one that mirrors the experience of living in a disabled body that is rendered simultaneously visible and invisible. Alice Dyer, a wheelchair tennis player, coach, and model with Zebedee Talent, relates to this experience, stating, “People often just see the wheelchair or the disability. That becomes a barrier between me and them...When you can’t wear the things that represent who you are, it’s hard.” Smith’s designs aim to bridge that gap, allowing the glimmering rays of identity to shine through the layers and cracks of comfortable-fitting clothes.

Known for advocating for disability inclusion in the fashion industry, Dyer has long been outspoken about the need for more representation and accessibility. “Many of us grow up feeling like we have to be either extraordinary or invisible,” she reflects. She goes on to share her essential advice: “Just find something that helps you move your body and feel good in it. Something that reminds you what your body can do, rather than what it can’t. That can be transformative.”

“I want inclusion to be so normal that it’s no longer even noteworthy, so that when people see a disabled model, they simply say, 'Stunning, next’.” – Alice Dyer

Models wearing Hannah Smith's collection at Central Saint Martins BA Fashion Show, photographed by Karma Casto 2025.

This transformative interplay between function and beauty is woven into The Gentle Frame. The collection nods to the romance of the 19th century, from the rich, gothic novels of the Brontë sisters to horseback riding in the countryside. The silhouettes, inspired by 1840s dress, feature high collars, capelets, and boning, but they are adapted — draped in repose, shaped for movement, and moulded to rest. Sleeves are slashed, hems redrawn. Peplum jackets curl outward, trimmed in serrated tulle. Skirts part, rise, or pool to accommodate seated bodies. Each garment is attuned to the person that it holds. The materials move between resistance and release: sculpted corsetry in waste crepe, machine-embroidered stripes floating on tulle like spider limbs in webs, lashings of layered organza billowing over metal structures. A palette of wind-worn black, misted ivory, and bruised rose anchors the collection, offset by glints of oxidised silver and pearlescent finishes.

Dyer, who is accustomed to seeing the industry fall short on such inclusivity, shares, “I love that this is fashion, design, and beauty just for the sake of it, and the fact that it includes disabled people, because so often it doesn’t.” She adds, “It’s functional, but it’s also fabulous—It’s hard to get both. And without both, your identity is compromised.”

“Disabled people don’t need to be grateful that you made something. Make it because we exist.” – Alice Dyer

The Gentle Frame draws particular influence from Alexander McQueen’s Spring/Summer 1999 show, which featured custom-made prosthetic legs for Aimee Mullins, the Paralympic record-holder, model, actress, and activist. In a 2015 TED Talk, Mullins shared her philosophy on body transformation and its potential to elevate the overlooked, stating: “Poetry matters. Poetry is what elevates the banal and neglected object to a realm of art. It can transform the thing that might have made people fearful into something that invites them to look, and look a little longer, and maybe even understand.” We can see this poetry carved into exhaustive floral details on the elm wood prosthetic leg that McQueen made especially for Mullins. He was able to transform a clinical necessity into a beautiful object of desire. Smith reflects on this creation in awe: “Designing in this way is inherently bespoke. There’s so much beauty in that.” She aspires to the same craftsmanship and consideration in her own designs, forging garments that honour the unique needs of the body, not as a separate entity but as an extension of its form.

For this young designer, another key source of inspiration is Balenciaga's x-ray photographs, captured by Nick Veasey in 2016 and showcased in the Balenciaga: Shaping Fashion exhibition at the Victoria and Albert Museum in 2017. Veasey’s x-ray images revealed the internal metal structures of the garments. This reminded Smith of her brother’s surgery – his body entwined with both metal and flesh, echoing the paradox of man-made and organic forms that have long fascinated Smith in her material approach. “Medical aids should be seen as extensions of the body,” Smith asserts. “They should be designed for, not hidden, or treated as purely medical. There’s so much innovation in kitchen utensils. Why can’t mobility aids have even a fraction of that effort?”

Constantly having to adjust her clothes for comfort, Dyer was shocked by how well Smith’s garments adapted to her body. “It just works. As it would for an able-bodied person. It’s comfortable, it fits in all the right places, and there’s no bagging or sagging. There’s no rubbing on your chair or against the floor. It’s designed for disabled people, but it’s also designed to be beautiful,” Dyer explains. Her heartfelt response to Smith’s work highlights the designer’s unwavering commitment to inclusivity. Despite her youth, Smith has channelled her intelligence and creativity into a vision for a more considered fashion future: “There’s a lot of hope. She’s looked at this issue and thought, ‘This is what I’m going to turn my hand to.’ It just shows that it’s not going to be the same forever,” Dyer comments.

Models walking for Hannah Smith's Graduate collection at Central Saint Martins BA Fashion Show, photographed by Karma Casto, 2025.

However, the journey ahead is far from easy. Fashion has long been exclusive, and as Dyer continues to point out, “Disabled people have money too. We buy clothes. We go to the red carpets. We want couture options that fit us and represent us too.” Unfortunately, the slow progress in disability representation is a reflection of larger systemic issues.

For instance, recent changes to the UK’s Personal Independence Payment (PIP) system show a concerning trend of reducing support for those with disabilities. As of November 2026, stricter eligibility criteria are expected to leave over 800,000 disabled individuals without vital benefits, with many facing a loss of up to £4,500 annually. These cuts, aimed at reducing welfare spending, disproportionately affect the disabled community, potentially exacerbating poverty and limiting access to basic needs, let alone the luxury of fashion. When industries fail to integrate disability into their foundations from the beginning, it deepens this divide. It’s not simply about making clothing accessible—it’s about creating a space where all bodies are celebrated 24/7, in every aspect of industry, business, design, and production.

“I feel like someone has finally recognised that this is needed. She just gives you a bit of hope for humanity. If this can be done at a CSM fashion show, what’s your excuse [big brands]?” – Alice Dyer

Dyer’s vision for the future is one of ongoing dialogue and grace. “We need to let people make mistakes, especially if they’re coming from a good place. That’s how people grow,” she says, urging the fashion industry to approach inclusivity with an open mind, willing to learn and evolve. Still, she has experienced the heaven that is modelling in ‘The Gentle Frame’, stating: “Wearing something that’s been designed with so much thought, consideration, and discussion, is so special and rare.” This is the standard treatment for every person that Hannah Smith collaborates with.

With this collection, she has given form to a dream of inclusivity and empowerment—one where the body is celebrated for its unique needs and its unique beauty. This is a collection that proves that fashion can, indeed, be both ravishing and wearable for all bodies when it is designed with empathy, consideration, and intention.