Dressing Through Disruption: Rethinking Style in a Changing Body

Two years ago, on an ordinary autumn morning, my body changed—and everything I thought I knew about style changed with it.

I was on my way to a conference when, less than two hours after showering, my body was drenched in sweat. The smell was overwhelming. I remember standing there, disoriented, embarrassed, and unsure what was happening. I ducked into a store and spent money I didn’t have on a merino knit, hoping it would fix the problem and get me thought the day.

It didn’t.

That moment marked the beginning of a two-year journey navigating hyperhidrosis, perimenopause, SIBO, fibroids, and eventually a hysterectomy. It was filled with endless medical appointments, limited answers, and a gradual but undeniable impact on my career and business as I found myself pulling back from the work I loved. But alongside the physical symptoms—sweating, pain, bloating, hormonal shifts—and the mental strain, something else was quietly unravelling:

My relationship with style.

Style, Disrupted

As someone who built a business around personal style and conscious wardrobes, I found myself in unfamiliar territory. The clothes I once loved no longer worked for my body. The silhouettes, fabrics, and structures that once felt expressive began to feel restrictive, impractical—even unwearable.

Slowly, my wardrobe shifted.

Denim gave way to skirts. Structured pieces were replaced with soft draping. Elastic waistbands became essential. Breathability became non-negotiable. Black became a uniform—not for aesthetic preference, but for practicality.

And creativity? It took a back seat.

I wasn’t curating outfits—I was engineering survival.

The Gap in the Style Conversation

What became clear to me through this experience is that the fashion and styling industry rarely accounts for bodies in flux.

We talk about style in aspirational terms:

·      Self-expression

·      Identity

·      Aesthetic

But far less do we talk about:

·      Dressing through chronic symptoms

·      Navigating unpredictable bodies

·      The intersection of health and clothing

And yet, so many people are living this reality.

Whether it’s perimenopause, endometriosis, gut health conditions, autoimmune disease, or recovery from surgery—our bodies change. Sometimes gradually, sometimes overnight. And when they do, our wardrobes often fail us.

Not because we’ve lost our sense of style—but because the framework we’ve been given doesn’t support us.

From Personal Style to Functional Style

At first, I really grieved my style, but what emerged for me wasn’t a loss of style—but a redefinition of it.

I began to see style not just as visual, but as functional, responsive, and adaptive.

Dressing became less about how something looked, and more about how it supported me:

·      Could my body breathe in it?

·      Would it hold me through a flare-up?

·      Did it allow for fluctuation, discomfort, unpredictability?

This wasn’t about giving up on style—it was about expanding it.

Because true personal style isn’t static. It evolves with our lives, our values, and—critically—our bodies. 

And I won’t lie, learning what it feels like to feel comfortable in clothes and not fighting restriction and discomfort is an actual gamechanger.

Sustainability in Practice, Not Perfection

Throughout this time, I also held onto my commitment to sustainability.

Not perfectly—but consciously.

I didn’t overhaul my wardrobe or start from scratch. Instead, I adapted. I reworked what I had. I made thoughtful additions where needed. I prioritised natural fibres, versatility, and longevity.

This is an important nuance often missing from sustainable fashion conversations:
Sustainability must also meet us where we are.

When your body is in distress, perfection is not the goal. Support is.

Reclaiming Style—On New Terms

There were moments during this period where I felt like a fraud in my own business. How could I speak about style when I was rotating the same few outfits, prioritising comfort over creativity?

But what I’ve come to understand is this:

This experience didn’t diminish my work—it deepened it.

Because style isn’t about having endless options or perfectly curated outfits. It’s about feeling supported, seen, and like yourself in what you wear—especially when your body feels unfamiliar.

And for many people, this is the missing piece.

A More Inclusive Approach to Style

If the fashion and styling industry is to truly evolve, it needs to expand its definition of who it serves.

We need to make space for:

·      Bodies that fluctuate

·      Bodies in pain

·      Bodies in transition

Bodies that don’t fit neatly into standard sizing, structure, or expectations

We need to move beyond aesthetics alone and embrace function as an integral part of style.

Because getting dressed is not just a creative act—it’s a daily negotiation between who we are, how we feel, and what we need.

Where I Am Now

As I write this, I’m four weeks post-hysterectomy and in the early stages of SIBO treatment.

I’m hopeful—but also realistic. Healing is not linear, and my body is still finding its balance.

But my connection to my work has reignited—with more clarity than ever.

Because I know my issues aren’t isolated. I also know that the pressure to feel constantly put together, constantly creative and on trend can really mess with our confidence and clarity.

An Invitation

If your body has changed—and your wardrobe no longer feels like it fits your life—you’re not alone.

And you’re not doing style “wrong.”

You’re navigating something that the industry has not yet fully acknowledged.

This is part of the work I’m now deeply committed to:
Supporting people to build wardrobes that honour both their values and their realities.

Because you deserve to feel like yourself in your clothes—even when your body is asking for something different.

Find out about a Style Strategy session here.