Finding HopeRare Birds, The New Neurodivergent Clothing Line – Review
Posted on August 12, 2023
Several months ago, I got an email with a survey for a new clothing line that prioritises neurodivergent people, known as Rare Birds. They already had plans to make the clothes soft, seamless, without labels, and so on, all things that neurodivergent individuals often struggle with; problems like these can trigger anything from difficulty concentration to full-blown meltdowns. This definitely appealed to me, having struggled with clothing and fabric issues all my life, and I eagerly filled out the first and then the second survey with my preferences, what a clothing line would ideally provide me with. Then, back in July I think, they launched the line and I bought a handful of items, hopeful that I’d find things I loved but also just curious about what they did with the survey results and how that data has translated into the actual clothes.
So here are my thoughts on my order, on the clothes that I bought.
My first impression when I unpacked them (apart from the overwhelming smell of plastic that plumed out of the box – it was so strong it actually gave me a headache and I knew I’d have to wash whatever I kept a handful of times before I could wear them) was that the fabric wasn’t what I’d been hoping for. I’m a 100% cotton girl and the clothes felt more lycra-like, more stretchy and slippery, which didn’t thrill me. But I wasn’t going to be put off just by that; I felt like I had to give them a real chance. First impressions and all that…
So, because I wanted to get a real sense of what the line was like, I’d bought several things (which ended up being pretty expensive but I’ll come back to that later):
Everyday Short-Sleeve T-Shirt (in black) – This big, loose t-shirt is described as “gentle on the skin and super soft to the touch” and in their ThermoSoft range, made of 68% Bamboo, 28% Organic Cotton, and 4% Elastane. It’s reported to be stretchy, durable, super soft, breathable, and thermo-regulating (the bamboo helps to regulate your body temperature, making sure you stay cool when it’s hot and warm when it’s cold). It was comfortable, if not my fabric preference, but not more comfortable than most of the t-shirts I already own and I wouldn’t wear it out; it’s a bit shapeless and I felt kind of frumpy in it.
Everyday Long-Sleeve T-Shirt (in black) – Part of the CloudComfort collection, this soft long-sleeve top is made from 95% Modal (made from beech trees and considered more eco-friendly than cotton) and 5% Elastane. They describe it as ultra soft, durable, lightweight, and breathable. The last part is what I liked most about it: it felt very light and airy, even if the fabric isn’t quite my preference. I think it would be good for summer, especially since I’ve semi-recently developed the compulsive urge to be covered up at all times. It’s a nicer shape than the short-sleeve t-shirt too. It was probably my favourite of the things we bought, although I’m still not sure how comfortable I’d feel wearing it outside the house; it’s not as flattering as I would have liked (and I don’t mean tight – I wouldn’t want it to be tight – I mean in regards to its shape).
Everyday Leggings (in black) – Made of 86% Organic Cotton and 14% Elastane, these leggings from the FlexSoft range (described as blending “the softness of Organic Cotton with the stretchiness of Elastane to create a fabric that maintains its shape with ease while being gentle on the skin”) are supposed to be soft and comfortable (even for the very sensitive skin), stretchy but strong, lightweight, and will retain their shape despite frequent wash and wear. They were strong and supportive but I’m not completely convinced by the shaping of them: the waistband was uncomfortably tight at a strange point of my torso, which was particularly unpleasant when sitting.
Everyday Joggers (in black) – Also in the ThermoSoft range, these thin sweatpants are made of 68% Bamboo, 28% Organic Cotton, and 4% Elastane: stretchy, durable, super soft, breathable, and thermo-regulating. I found them light and thin (not heavy, like the fabric of some sweatpants) and I think they’d be particularly good in the summer but they’re far too like pyjamas to ever wear out. And while I know sweatpants are about comfort and not about looking good, I felt actively unattractive in them, which I think I would struggle with long term. (The idea of Dopamine Dressing is something that I’m intrigued by and want to test out at some point to see if it does improve my mood and confidence and motivation).
DreamSeam Socks (in black) – They were beautifully soft, I have to give them that, made of 75% Bamboo, 23% Polyester, and 2% Elastane, and I love that they don’t have seams (I’ve been wearing my socks inside out for years in order to avoid them) but I couldn’t even bear to open them when I saw how expensive they were (£10 for one pair of socks – when I’d made the order, Mum and I had been talking about it, she’d done it on her laptop, and either she didn’t mention the pricing to me or I missed her telling me). That’s just too expensive (especially in the case of the socks when you can just turn them inside out).
And that was something I wanted to talk about in general. A significant percentage of the neurodivergent population are unemployed for various reasons and so to charge so much for basic items makes them, as far as I can tell, pretty unavailable to the people they’re making them for. I want to support them and I can understand many of the reasons why they may need to cost what they do but I certainly can’t afford it as a general practice. It’s all too expensive for me to base my wardrobe around; they are simple, basic pieces after all and not fashion or statement pieces for which you’d expect to spend more. I want to support them but while they’re this expensive, there’s a limit to what I could buy.
Another general issue that I noticed is that none of the clothes have sizes bigger than XL. Other than excluding anyone who wears sizes bigger than this, it’s not uncommon for neurodivergent people to want their clothes loose to avoid feeling uncomfortable or overstimulated; while it’s true that most of these clothes are roomy, I’d imagine that anyone who’s size L or above and looking for baggy clothes will struggle without bigger sizes. Maybe this is something they’ll introduce over time but I have noticed it while perusing their website.
And on a personal note, I didn’t feel good in pretty much any of it: I felt unattractive and like, to others, as if I hadn’t put any effort into my appearance. I know they’re meant to be the basics but still, they didn’t make me feel good about how I looked or confident in my appearance, which we know is really important when it comes to our mental health, our confidence, our relationships… As I mentioned earlier, the idea of Dopamine Dressing – dressing in a way that boosts your mood, your productivity, your confidence – is real, even if the evidence is still largely anecdotal in the neurodivergent population: if I’m excited about the clothes I’m wearing and how I look, I’m likely to feel more confident and social and motivated because I feel good in myself. I can’t believe I’m the only person who feels this way. That is something I think is lacking here and hopefully will be addressed in the future.
Although I didn’t have a hugely positive experience this time, I think that overall, it’s a really positive thing. Different people want different things so I can hardly be annoyed that it’s not everything I wanted right off the bat; I guess I just hoped that I’d like it more than I do. But as I said, I think it’s a really great venture that I am excited about and will continue to support. It’s brand new and you’ve got to start somewhere; there are so many avenues that they can explore from this point. I’ll be keeping an eye on it to see what they go on to release and whether that is more my thing.
When Anxiety Is The Only Thing On The Menu
Posted on April 1, 2018
I know I touched on issues with food already this week but I thought I’d go into a little more detail so those of you who don’t experience this difficulty can get a glimpse into what it’s like. Food is a massive problem for me; it’s a daily cause of stress. Where am I going to be? Will there be food I can eat? If not, can I bring my own food? Can I get away with not eating or will people notice and point it out? It’s a constant loop and that is exhausting.
As I said in a recent post, I’m incredibly sensitive to the flavour of food; add even the smallest sprinkling of pepper to a meal and I can’t eat it. It overwhelms me and I just cannot eat it. Forget spicy food entirely. So I can only eat the simplest things: plain rice or pasta, unadorned chicken or fish, and so on. I practically live on fruit and vegetables. When there are lots of different flavours, I get overloaded. I can’t describe it better than I did in my sensory sensitivity post: “It’s like throwing a load of different coloured paints together: you don’t see all the different colours, you just get one new colour and it often isn’t a nice one.”
I’m also very sensitive to texture; there are very few things that don’t trigger my gag reflex. I’m sure all of you have experienced that at one time or another so you can imagine how desperate I am to avoid it. I remember a particularly bad experience with tofu; I’m actually shuddering just thinking about it. I have a similar problem with wet foods touching dry foods. It triggers the same response. So while my family – who are all fairly adventurous when it comes to food, at least from my point of view – flip through a library of cookbooks, I eat simple meals with ingredients that I can separate and I eat them over and over again.
Honestly, I don’t mind that. It’s safe. It’s comforting. It’s the pressure to eat ‘like a normal person’ that’s stressful. Going to restaurants and eating in public is a major anxiety: it’s very rare that there’s something on the menu that I feel able to eat and asking for something simple feels impossible. I find asking for anything difficult and drawing attention to this issue is something I try to avoid if at all possible.
As a child, I was labelled a picky eater and strongly encouraged to try different food. I know that my family and friends were just trying to help me: they were trying to prepare me for a world that would expect me to eat complicated food. But instead of it getting easier, it got harder. So eventually we reached this uneasy stalemate. But getting a diagnosis made a massive difference: it gave people an explanation, made them realise that it was something I couldn’t help. It took the pressure off in a big way. But as important as that is, it hasn’t fixed my problems with food. And as much as I struggle with it physically and struggle to get the right nutrition, it also has a big impact on my mental health.
People make assumptions when they hear how little I can eat. They think I’m being picky or deliberately difficult and see me as an inconvenience. I know that it’s not my fault and that it’s a valid reason to struggle but I find it incredibly embarrassing that I can’t eat like everyone else. I feel like it keeps me from really becoming an adult, especially when so much socialising revolves around the consumption of food and drink. It feels like a weakness; it’s something I’m ashamed of, which definitely feeds into both my body image issues and my depression, as well as my anxiety. When I get really low, as in dangerously low, food becomes even harder and I just lose the will to eat all together.
I vividly remember being about ten years old and reading a magazine article about a girl who had to have intravenous nutrition for medical reasons and I found myself wishing I could have the same, wishing I could not eat because it would be so much easier. And I still relate to that. I would give anything to be in control of this, rather than it have control of me. I wish I could choose what to eat, rather than navigate around the things I can’t. I wish I could eat according to my beliefs instead of having to worry about whether I’m getting enough protein or calcium or whatever (I would love to be a vegan, or even a vegetarian, and often feel guilty that I’m not but health wise, it’s ill advised when there’s already so little that I can eat). I wish I didn’t have to be afraid of blowing a sensory fuse, of getting completely overloaded, which can trigger a meltdown. I wish I could enjoy food. But I can’t and I’m scared I never will.
Living With The Volume Up Loud
Posted on March 28, 2018
I have always been incredibly sensitive, ever since I was a little kid. It was one of the words used most commonly to describe me as I grew up. While it was usually emotional, I was also sensitive to what was going on around me and that seems to have increased over time. I can get overwhelmed by all the sensory information coming into my brain and I end up struggling to process it all. The processing can get stuck or I’ll zero in on one specific thing, like tunnel vision. It can also happen emotionally. The smallest thing can unsettle me and it can take hours or days to come back to myself. When I was diagnosed with ASD, someone described this really well to me: where neurotypical brains can filter out information that isn’t relevant (not ignoring it but not consciously processing it), neuroatypical brains can’t, so all the information comes in at the same volume and overwhelms the brain.
I struggle a lot with noise. Loud, sudden noises, like a slamming door or a fire alarm are very upsetting. It’s like they’re inside my body, inside my head, and before long, I can’t think and my anxiety overwhelms me. If it ends quickly, I can slowly force it back until I can function again but if it continues, it can lead to a meltdown where I lose all control of my emotions and thinking. It’s awful.
When it comes to studying or writing (although not songwriting), I need some background noise, almost to fill the space around me and in my brain. I often refer to the earlier example of information coming in through every channel: if I listen to something familiar, like a well watched TV show or audiobook, it’s like I’m filling some of those channels with something that I don’t need to process because I’ve already processed it, leaving me with only the channels I need to work on whatever it is I’m working on. Having said that, if there are too many different sounds going on, I start to get overwhelmed. It’s like my brain can’t balance them correctly, focussing on one too much and not hearing the others and so on. As you can imagine, that can make playing music quite difficult. I’m finally getting into the habit of carrying earplugs around but that has issues of it’s own: I find the sensation of essentially blocking my ears a difficult one, plus they’re pretty uncomfortable.
I’d never really thought of myself as being sensitive when it comes to touch but the more I think about it, the more experiences come to mind. I’m pretty specific about the fabrics I can wear and there aren’t many things I can put on my skin. It doesn’t take much before it feels unclean and once that feeling sets in, I can’t shake it. It’s horrible. There have been a few days where even multiple showers won’t fix it. I’ve also had some pretty bad reactions to various soaps and make up products, even those labelled as suitable for sensitive skin. The most dramatic example of this was when I was given perfume for my birthday. I love the smell of it but wearing it causes this weird reaction: my eyes water, my nose itches, my throat hurts, and so on. The worst part is how badly it irritates my lips: the skin burns and splits and it can take days to heal. And I don’t even have to be wearing the perfume to have that reaction; I only have to be wearing something I once wore with the perfume. Washing and airing the clothes hasn’t seemed to help much but I’m holding out hope that it will eventually fade.
My relationship with food needs it’s own post (I’ll get there, I promise!) but I think it’s important to mention in this context. I am really, really sensitive when it comes to food, so much so that I can only handle pretty bland stuff. This used to be a big problem because my family is pretty adventurous when it comes to trying different recipes and that often caused stress and anxiety all around. I got labelled as a picky eater and the most common response was to push me to eat the things I didn’t like, assuming that the experience would get better. But it didn’t; I just got more and more anxious around food. But since the diagnosis, it’s been easier. Well, easier to manage. It’s something that people can understand and that has really lessened the pressure on me. Now, the people around me let me decide what I can and can’t handle. I struggle with both texture and with taste and that can make some food impossible to eat. I get so overwhelmed by all the flavours that I can’t taste any of them individually. It’s like throwing a load of different coloured paints together: you don’t see all the different colours, you just get one new colour and it often isn’t a nice one. And that links into being really sensitive to smell. Something that those around me can’t smell can overwhelm me like a fog. It gets into my throat and my eyes. I won’t be able to focus and often have to leave the vicinity.
There are other things that overload my brain and while they aren’t exactly to do with my senses, they feel pretty similar. I guess they’re based on intuition and it seems that my intuition can be as amplified as my other senses.
Being in a crowd of people also overwhelms me emotionally. I get overloaded with how everyone has a name, a favourite colour, family, friends (who all have names and favourite colours), foods they hate, superstitions, dates they always remember, phone numbers they always forget, movies they quote, and so on and so on and so on. I get overwhelmed by how much is in everyone’s lives and I end up feeling like I’m being crushed by the weight of that. I feel like I can’t breathe. Some days I don’t feel it so strongly but on the days where I feel really fragile, like I don’t have any skin, it’s very, very stressful.
Another thing that needs it’s own post is my reaction to other people’s emotions. I feel like a lightning rod for them, especially the strong ones. I want to write more about this at some point but again, it’s relevant here. When I’m around anyone feeling a strong emotion, I start to feel it too. Most commonly I feel other people’s grief. And there’s always guilt mixed in: they’re not my emotions so I shouldn’t be feeling them. But I can’t help it. And it doesn’t take long for me to feel overwhelmed by all of that.
All of these things become exponentially worse when I’m stressed or anxious which, of course, is when I feel least able to cope with it. I don’t know if it’s something I can change, or whether my brain is wired this way, making everything so intense. Maybe it’s both. Maybe it’s neither.
Finding Hope 