top of page

Mobility Aids: It’s Time to Ditch the Beige and the Stigma

Ah, mobility aids. Those glorious bits of kit designed to prevent folks with chronic conditions like Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS) from collapsing into an exhausted heap of sad immobility. They’re life-saving, pain-easing, and independence-boosting miracles. And yet, society looks at them with all the enthusiasm usually reserved for a soggy sandwich, thinking, “Oh no, you can’t possibly use that. People will stare!”

And speaking of staring—can we discuss the design of these things? Because let’s be brutally honest: most mobility aids are hideous. We’re talking NHS-standard beige, industrial monstrosities that look like they were stolen straight out of a hospital storage cupboard from the 1970s. Seriously, what exactly is the design brief here—“medical sadness”?


The Stigma Problem

First up, why does using a mobility aid feel like admitting defeat on a nationwide scale? Here in Britain, we’re hopelessly devoted to our “Keep calm and carry on” mentality, where asking for help somehow equals moral failure. You need a cane to get around at age 25? Cue the patronising chorus:

“Oh, do you really need that?”

“You’re far too young for a walking stick!”

Or my personal favourite: “My gran had one just like that!”

Did she really, Karen? Was it this exact stick? Shall we have a detailed comparison, maybe over tea?

Mobility aids aren’t a sign of weakness—they’re tools. Just like glasses, an Oyster card, or those individuals who carry a flask of tea everywhere because they simply cannot function without it (yes, you know exactly who you are). The difference? Society inexplicably treats mobility aids as an admission of failure rather than the essential, life-enhancing devices they truly are.


Why Are They So Ugly?!

Now, onto design—or the glaring lack thereof. Why do mobility aids seem purposefully crafted by someone who actively despises joy? Is there a shadowy committee somewhere brainstorming ways to make disabled people feel even worse about themselves?

Take canes as an example. Your choices typically boil down to:

  • A cheap, flimsy stick from Boots that looks ready to collapse if the wind picks up slightly.

  • An industrial nightmare in “sad grey” or “depressing black” that screams, “Hello, I’ve arrived to ruin your entire day.”

And don’t even get me started on braces—they're straight out of dystopian sci-fi films, all Velcro straps and existential dread.

Meanwhile, other design fields are thriving: smartphones fold themselves neatly away, cars now drive themselves. Yet stylish, affordable mobility aids seem permanently penciled onto humanity’s to-do list somewhere after “colonize Mars” and “figure out how to fold fitted sheets.”


The Good News: Cool Mobility Aids Exist!

Thankfully, not everyone has surrendered to the tyranny of NHS beige. Some brands have realized mobility aids can—and should—be functional and fabulous:

  • Glamsticks: Want rhinestones and sparkles? Canes that outshine Elton John’s entire wardrobe? Glamsticks has got you covered, custom-designing walking sticks that are genuinely accessories. (glamsticks.co.uk)

  • Cool Crutches: Ergonomic, silent crutches available in vibrant patterns from ombre shades to gorgeous florals. Think bespoke gala-wear, but for your arms. (coolcrutches.com)

  • Neo Walk: Acrylic walking sticks in bold colours and mesmerizing swirls. They're durable, lightweight, and so visually appealing you'll want to strut—even on days when energy is low. (neowalksticks.co.uk)

  • Tuni Mobility: Rollators are finally getting their glow-up. Sleek, lightweight, and modern, Tuni Mobility proves rollators can actually be chic. (tunimobility.com)

  • Essential Aids: Affordable yet fun, these bright-coloured crutches and sticks proudly say, “I'm here, and beige is definitely not my colour.” (essentialaids.com)


Changing the Narrative

Here's the key takeaway: mobility aids aren’t tragic—they’re empowering. They allow people to conserve precious energy, ease pain, and genuinely participate in life. So, why does stigma persist?

Let's start treating mobility aids like glasses—functional, stylish, and completely normal. No one ever remarks, “How brave of you to publicly admit your eyesight isn't 20/20!” It's the same concept. While we're at it, let's collectively demand better design. If humanity can figure out TikTok dances, surely we can design a walking stick that doesn’t look like a weapon from Game of Thrones.


The Bottom Line

Living with EDS or any condition requiring a mobility aid is already challenging without feeling coerced into a lifetime of medical device cosplay. So let's ditch the stigma, insist on better designs, and start proudly celebrating the tools that significantly improve our lives.

Because here’s the truth: needing support isn't weakness—it's strength. And if you’re going to use a mobility aid, you might as well look absolutely fabulous while doing so.


Sources:


 
 
 

Comments

© 2025  Unremarkable Me

bottom of page