Getting dressed in the morning seems simple enough… for most people.

Pick an outfit, throw it on, feel cute, head out the door. But for those of us living with chronic illness, the process is less “fashion moment” and more “strategic negotiation with a body that has strong opinions and zero consistency.”

My clothing choices aren’t based on trends or seasons — they’re based on whatever combination of symptoms is trying to ruin my day. So here’s a little walk-through of what getting dressed looks like when your body operates like an unpredictable toddler holding a megaphone.

1. Waistbands: Elastic Is a Love Language 🩳

Cute jeans? Could never be me. Buttons, zippers, anything that presses on my abdomen — my colon immediately files a complaint. Elastic waistbands are the real MVP. They stretch, they forgive, and they don’t try to fight me.

2. Tops: Loose, Flowy, and Absolutely Bra-Optional 👚

Thanks to MALS and nerve sensitivity, bras feel like medieval torture devices. Loose tops let me get away with skipping them entirely, and honestly? Free the ribcage. Free the shoulders. Free the pain.

3. Bags: Shoulder Straps? Absolutely Not 🎒

My neck instability said “we’re done here,” so shoulder bags went into retirement. Crossbody bags have been my day-one ride-or-die since my teens. And now? I’m proudly entering my Fanny Pack Era — hands-free, pain-free, and unbothered.

4. Shoes: The Ground Is Not To Be Trusted 👟

Heels? Boots with a heel? Adorable… for people whose balance doesn’t spontaneously give up. I stick to sneakers or slides — because if I’m going down, it’s not going to be because of footwear.

5. Layers: Because My Internal Thermostat Is Broken 🧅

Heat intolerance means I dress like an onion: many layers, ready to peel off at a moment’s notice. One wrong temperature shift and I turn into a tomato. Layers are the only thing standing between me and an embarrassing meltdown (literally).

6. Sensory-Friendly Fabrics Only 🧸

If it's stiff, itchy, scratchy, structured, or “high fashion,” my skin immediately says no. I want fabrics that feel like soft therapy.

7. Weight Matters — And Not Like That 🎈

Heavy jackets? Chunky bags? Clothes that feel like a workout? Absolutely not. Fatigue said we’re traveling light only.

8. Tightness Near the Stomach: A Guaranteed Protest 🚫

Anything that presses even slightly on my abdomen triggers a full internal riot.

9. Energy Counts Too 🔋

If an outfit is too complicated to put on, it’s not happening. My clothes need to cooperate — physically, emotionally, spiritually.

So What’s the Final Result?

Most days, it’s less about “What looks cute?” and more about “What won’t cause a flare, a rash, a breakdown, or a regret spiral by noon?”. And honestly? That’s okay. Every single one of us navigating chronic illness has turned fashion into a mix of creativity, practicality, and pure stubborn resilience. Here’s the truth — and the heart of it all:

*I don’t really pick my outfits anymore — my body does.

And my body has the fashion taste of a grumpy toddler: ‘Nothing scratchy! Nothing tight! Nothing heavy! And ABSOLUTELY NO BRA.’ Shoutout to everyone navigating fashion with a body that constantly changes the rules. Your flexibility (mentally, not physically 😭) is incredible.