Beauty and Disability: Challenging Norms and Celebrating Uniqueness
Lucy Edwards, a British makeup artist and broadcaster, leans close to her mirror, her fingers gliding over the ridges of a lipstick tube. Blind since age 17 due to a rare genetic condition, she relies on touch, memory, and intuition to create bold, artistic looks that defy societal expectations. “People assume blindness means I can’t enjoy beauty,” she says. “But makeup isn’t about how others see me—it’s about how I feel.” Her TikTok videos, watched by millions, are a testament to creativity that transcends sight. Yet, for every empowering moment, there’s a memory of exclusion: inaccessible store layouts, unreadable packaging, and sales associates who spoke to her companion instead of her.
Lucy’s story encapsulates the tension at the heart of beauty culture: a world obsessed with narrow ideals of perfection, often blind to the richness of human diversity. For centuries, people with disabilities have been sidelined by beauty norms that equate worth with able-bodiedness. Today, as movements for inclusion gain momentum, a revolution is unfolding—one that redefines beauty not as a standard to meet, but as a celebration of resilience, innovation, and the audacity to exist unapologetically.
The Historical Erasure of Disability in Beauty
Beauty standards are not innate—they are cultural constructs shaped by power, privilege, and fear. From Ancient Greece’s idolization of symmetrical physiques to Victorian-era “Ugly Laws” that criminalized disfigured individuals in public spaces, disability has long been framed as a deviation from the “ideal.” The Industrial Revolution’s mass-produced fashion and cosmetics further cemented exclusion, as designs catered only to able-bodied consumers.
Even today, the beauty and fashion industries lag in inclusivity. Only 4% of beauty brands create products for people with physical disabilities, according to Procter & Gamble’s 2019 research. Mainstream media perpetuates this erasure: a mere 0.8% of ads feature disabled individuals, per Maryville University. The message is clear: disability and beauty are mutually exclusive.
Yet, disabled communities have always subverted these norms. Helen Cookman, a mid-20th-century designer with limited mobility, pioneered adaptive clothing like magnetic closures and wrap dresses decades before they entered mainstream fashion. Her work laid the groundwork for modern innovators like Tommy Hilfiger’s adaptive line and Kohl Kreatives’ ergonomic makeup brushes.
The Rise of Inclusive Design and Activism
For many disabled individuals, the simple act of shopping for beauty products can become an overwhelming challenge. Halima Ahmed, who developed late-onset blindness at 24, describes the frustration: "Shopping for beauty products as a blind person can be near impossible. Not simply being able to pick up a shampoo for your hair type is frustrating."
Social media has become a catalyst for change. Disabled creators like Edwards (1.6 million TikTok followers) and writer-activist Rachel Charlton-Dailey use platforms to demand visibility. Their advocacy has pressured brands to rethink design:
Unilever’s Rexona developed a deodorant with grippable textures and one-handed applicators.
Guide Beauty, founded by makeup artist Terri Bryant after her Parkinson’s diagnosis, offers easy-grip mascaras and eyeliners.
Estée Lauder and L’Oréal now prioritize accessible websites with screen-reader compatibility and alt-text descriptions.
However, progress is uneven. Lancôme’s HAPTA, a $200 computerized makeup applicator for limited mobility, drew criticism for its high cost. Similarly, Unilever’s inclusive deodorant remains a prototype years after its announcement. “Tokenism isn’t inclusion,” Charlton-Dailey stresses. “We need affordable, functional solutions designed with us, not for us.
Why Tokenism Fails: The Illusion of Progress
While some brands have made efforts to include disabled individuals in campaigns or launch "inclusive" products, these actions often fall into the trap of tokenism—superficial gestures that fail to address deeper systemic issues. Tokenism not only undermines genuine progress but also alienates the very communities it claims to support.
1. Superficial Representation
Brands may feature disabled models or release limited-edition products but ignore structural barriers like inaccessible packaging or unaffordable innovations. For example, Lancôme’s HAPTA device, priced at $200, was criticized for being out of reach for many disabled consumers. As activist Rachel Charlton-Dailey stresses, “Tokenism isn’t inclusion. We need solutions designed with us, not for us.”
2. Reinforcing Stereotypes
Tokenistic efforts often reduce disabled individuals to objects of pity or inspiration, perpetuating harmful narratives. Highlighting a blind artist’s ability to apply makeup as extraordinary, for instance, overlooks their creativity and skill, reinforcing societal biases instead of challenging them.
3. Lack of Authentic Engagement
Many brands design products without consulting disabled communities, leading to impractical or irrelevant solutions. Unilever’s inclusive deodorant prototype, announced years ago, remains unreleased, leaving disabled shoppers without tangible options. Without authentic collaboration, these efforts feel disingenuous and exploitative.
4. Missed Opportunities for Systemic Change
Tokenism distracts from addressing entrenched ableism in industries. True progress requires a holistic approach—universal design, affordable innovations, and inclusive hiring practices. As Lucy Edwards puts it, “Feeling seen means having access, not just being featured.”
The Numbers Tell a Story
Recent research paints a stark picture of the current landscape:
95.1% of disabled people feel there aren't enough accessible beauty brands
93.1% report that the beauty industry doesn't cater to their needs
88.3% say there isn't enough disability representation in the industry
Only 4% of beauty and personal care brands create products catering to physical disabilities
Yet, the economic potential is immense. The combined spending power of disabled consumers and their families reaches $8 trillion globally, increasing by 14% annually. Despite this, only about 10% of businesses have developed targeted strategies to accommodate disabled customers.
Breaking Barriers: The Challenge of Access
For many disabled individuals, the simple act of shopping for beauty products can become an overwhelming challenge. Halima Ahmed, who developed late-onset blindness at 24, describes the frustration: "Shopping for beauty products as a blind person can be near impossible. Not simply being able to pick up a shampoo for your hair type is frustrating."
The barriers extend beyond physical stores. In the digital age, online shopping presents its own set of challenges. According to the disability charity Purple, 73% of disabled customers have experienced barriers on over a quarter of websites they visited, with 4.3 million having abandoned purchases due to inaccessibility.
The Science of Perception, Representation—and Unlearning Bias
Why do beauty norms resist change? Neuroscience offers clues: humans are wired to favor symmetry and familiarity, traits historically linked to health and social advantage. The “male gaze”—a term coined by feminist theorists—further narrows beauty into a performance for heterosexual male approval, sidelining disabled, queer, and gender-nonconforming individuals.
Yet, neuroplasticity proves biases can be unlearned. Studies show exposure to diverse representations rewires neural pathways, fostering empathy. When Too Faced added braille to packaging and VictoriaLand Beauty incorporated tactile symbols (e.g., crescent moons for night cream), they didn’t just aid visually impaired users—they challenged all consumers to engage differently.
Beyond physical accessibility, representation in beauty marketing and advertising remains crucial. Currently, disabled people appear in only 0.8% of advertising content, despite making up 15% of the global population. However, social media has emerged as a powerful platform for change, with disabled influencers and activists using their voices to challenge beauty standards and advocate for inclusion.
Building a Truly Inclusive Future
True progress requires more than token gestures or limited-edition products. As Millie Flemington-Clare, founder of Human Beauty, emphasizes, "True inclusivity in the beauty industry requires a holistic 360 approach. Brands need to go beyond token representation and actively involve the disabled community in product development, marketing, and decision-making processes."
The path forward demands collective effort:
Amplify Disabled Voices: Hire disabled consultants, models, and designers. Fenty’s collaboration with Ayers and Human Beauty’s co-creation with disabled testers set precedents.
Prioritize Universal Design: Create products usable by all. L’Occitane’s braille labels and Innocent Smoothies’ witty alt-texts prove inclusivity needn’t sacrifice creativity.
Educate and Advocate: Train retail staff, audit stores for accessibility, and lobby for policy changes.
Celebrate “Invisible” Beauty: Shift focus from appearance to resilience, humor, and innovation—qualities no disability can diminish.
Beauty as a Radical Act
Beauty, in its truest form, is not a mirror but a prism—reflecting the spectrum of human experience. For too long, society has looked away from disability, mistaking difference for deficiency. Yet, as Lucy Edwards sweeps glitter across her eyelids, her hands steady and sure, she embodies a truth we must all heed: beauty lies not in conformity, but in the courage to be seen.
The $8 trillion spending power of disabled consumers is a stark reminder: inclusion isn’t charity—it’s survival. Brands that fail to adapt will fade; those that embrace diversity will thrive. But beyond economics, this is a moral imperative. As Renke declares, “We’re not here to inspire pity. We’re here to redefine what beauty means.” The challenge is simple yet profound: Look harder. See better. Celebrate louder.
By Sypharany.
