The Art of Standing Out

As disabled creators continue reshaping fashion’s visual landscape, Bernadette is turning her prosthetic into more than a mobility aid, transforming it into a canvas for self expression and unapologetic personal style.

Image courtesy of Bernadette Hagans

For some people, fashion starts with a jacket, a pair of shoes, or a trend pulled from Pinterest. For Bernadette Hagans, an Award-Winning Content Creator, Model, Presenter and director of Wrapsthetic and Kurt Geiger Kindness Foundation ,it starts with her prosthetic leg, covered in fun patterns and colours.

In an industry that still often treats disability as an afterthought, Bernadette is quietly reshaping the narrative, not through loud statements but through playful styling. Her prosthetic is not hidden beneath clothing or treated as something separate from fashion. Instead, it has become something central to her visual identity: part accessory, part artwork, part storytelling tool.

“I’ve always tried to have fun with fashion,” Bernadette explains, “I’ve never tried to hide my leg, if anything, I love showing it and finding creative ways to build looks around it.”

That relationship between fashion and prosthetics has evolved naturally over time. What began as personal styling choices slowly became recognisable to others, forming a distinct aesthetic people instantly associate with her content. Yet, she rejects the idea that her identity is tied to one look.

Bernadette explains “It’s not that I’m specifically drawn to polka dots,” and added, “I switch up the style of my leg depending on how I’m feeling or what fashion I’m loving at the time. I was really into polka dots, so I created a polka dot prosthetic.”

The statement feels deceptively simple, but it challenges something much bigger: the assumption that prosthetics exist purely for functionality. Instead, Bernadette approaches her prosthetic the same way others might approach handbags, jewellery, or shoes, something expressive, changeable, and deeply personal.

“I love that my leg can evolve with trends and moods just like any other fashion piece.”

That freedom sits at the core of how she gets dressed. Sometimes an outfit begins with a vintage find from Vinted. Other times, the prosthetic itself becomes the starting point. She says, “a lot of the time, the idea for a leg design comes first and I base the outfit around it,” and added  “sometimes the leg inspires the outfit, sometimes it’s the other way around.”

Her styling process reflects a wider cultural shift happening across fashion and social media: a move away from perfection and toward personal expression. Disabled creators are increasingly refusing to shrink themselves to fit outdated beauty standards, instead embracing visibility on their own terms.

For Bernadette, fashion became transformational not because it disguised disability, but because it reframed it. “Fashion helped me completely change the way I saw my prosthetic,” she explains. “My prosthetic is a way for me to creatively express myself.”

That visibility has ripple effects far beyond aesthetics. Through posting outfits online, she has watched other disabled people begin embracing their own bodies more confidently too. “We’re creating a much more colourful world,” she says.

Yet despite growing conversations around inclusivity, misconceptions about disability and style remain deeply embedded within fashion culture. One of the most frustrating assumptions, she says, is that disabled people either are not interested in fashion or cannot fully participate in it.

“Fashion should be for everyone,” Bernadette says. “Disabled people are creative, stylish, expressive, and deserve to feel represented in campaigns, runways, and conversations just as much as anyone else.”

Another misconception surrounds practicality. Many people assume dressing with a prosthetic comes with endless restrictions. In reality, her approach is surprisingly unrestricted. She explains, “the only thing I tend to avoid is anything super tight because it’s not always the most comfortable around the socket area… other than that, fashion is still fashion, I just style it my own way.”

That refusal to limit herself extends into her wider approach to identity and confidence. Online, her content radiates boldness and self-assurance, but she admits confidence did not always come naturally. Bernadette reveals, “I’m definitely way more confident now than before I got cancer or lost my leg,” and adds, “I held myself back a lot before. It wasn’t until I wasn’t sure if I’d live that I actually started properly living.”

It is a striking reflection, one that reframes confidence not as something linked to appearance, but authenticity. 

“Now I’m truly myself, and I think that authenticity naturally brings confidence.”

Even with a recognisable visual identity online, she feels little pressure to maintain a fixed aesthetic for followers. She exclaimed, “my style changes depending on my mood,” and adds, “I think people connect more with authenticity than perfection.”

That authenticity also means showing the parts of life that exist beyond fashion content. While audiences may know her for styling videos, sports, and advocacy, she says the most important role in her life is motherhood. She says proudly, “I have a beautiful little boy and he is my whole world.”

Perhaps that grounding is what makes her perspective on confidence feel so refreshing. Despite the fashion shoots, statement looks, and creative prosthetic designs, she defines “feeling like yourself” in surprisingly simple terms.

“Honestly, it’s comfort,” she says. “No pressure, no overthinking — just wearing something that feels good and feels like me.” Some days that means an oversized hoodie and no makeup. Other days it means putting together a fun outfit simply because it sparks joy. Either way, she sees self-expression less as performance and more as freedom. Bernadette states, “feeling like yourself is more about freedom than appearance.”

And maybe that is exactly what makes Bernadette’s style resonate. Not the prosthetic itself, nor the patterns painted across it, but the permission it gives others to see disability differently, not as limitation, but as creativity, individuality, and expression in motion.