Gender-Affirming Clothing for Disabled Bodies: A Guide to Inclusive Care

At Origami Customs, we believe that clothing can be a tool of liberation. For many trans and gender-diverse people, wearing gender-affirming garments is a powerful way to feel more at home in our bodies. But what happens when those very garments—designed to affirm us—aren’t made with all bodies or abilities in mind?

This was the starting point for our recent free workshop hosted by Plume Health in collaboration with trans voice teacher and disability advocate Renée Yoxon. Together, we invited our community into a conversation that asked: How do we make sure that gender euphoria isn’t limited to able-bodied folks  and easy access?

We explored what it means to adapt fashion for disabled wearers, not just in technical terms, but also in emotional ones. We unpacked the systems that shape access, talked through the limitations of mainstream design, and imagined new possibilities for clothing as a source of care rather than constraint.

This workshop was made with disabled folks in mind, especially those navigating the unique challenges of finding gender-affirming gear that actually works for their bodies. Hopefully, these tips will help you find ways to find and use affirming products that are right for you! 

Couldn’t make it live? The full workshop is available to stream for free, so you can catch all the insights, stories, and practical tips whenever it works for you.

Meet the Presenters

Renée Yoxon

Renée is a nonbinary trans voice teacher based in Montreal. They specialize in gender-affirming voice training, which helps people align the sound of their voice with their preferred gender, only through practice! Renée has supported thousands of students worldwide in finding transition strategies that are right for them, and brings a deep well of knowledge, compassion, and lived experience to their work.

As someone who is disabled and has been living with chronic pain since 2010, Renée knows that all gender-affirmation practices have to work with your body, not against it. They’ve built a practice rooted in adaptability—designing exercises that meet people where they’re at, even on days when energy is low or pain is high. Renée previously worked as a communications officer for the DisAbled Women’s Network of Canada (DAWN), where they advocated for justice at the intersection of gender, disability, and accessibility. Their work reminds us: affirming care must be flexible, responsive, and never one-size-fits-all.

Rae Hill (they/them)

Rae is the founder and lead designer of Origami Customs, a Montreal-based brand offering ethically made, custom-fitted gender-affirming garments. A trans non-binary designer with a background in sociology, Rae started OC to serve and underserved community—folks who were already modifying clothes out of necessity, because nothing off the rack worked for their bodies.

Rae has personally worn binders for over a decade and lives with CPTSD, ADHD, chronic pain, and a spinal cord injury. They approach design from both lived experience and technical expertise, knowing firsthand the difference that inclusive, adaptive garments can make.

Fun fact: disability advocacy runs in the family—Rae’s mother, who also has a spinal cord injury and uses a powerchair, ran the disability resource center in Victoria for years. And while Rae is not a medical professional, their work is rooted in care, curiosity, and a commitment to designing with—not just for—marginalized communities.

Together, Renée and Rae created a space to explore how gender-affirming clothing can better serve our disabled kin, and how we can design with accessibility, comfort, and agency at the forefront.

Please note that neither Rae nor Renée is medically trained. Their advice comes from years of experience, both with their own bodies, research, and working with thousands of clients throughout the years. However, all bodies are different, and these tips may not be for everyone. Ask your doctor what options are right for you! 

Why Accessibility Matters in Gender-Affirming Fashion

The ability to wear garments that reflect our gender identity can have a direct impact on our mental health, sense of agency, and daily comfort in the world. Research shows that social and psychological gender affirmation—including the ability to wear clothing that aligns with our gender—can lead to lower rates of depression and higher self-esteem among trans or gender-diverse individuals. 

But for folks who are disabled, that access is often shaped—or limited—by designs that weren’t made with their bodies or experiences in mind. But affirmation can’t happen without access. 

Adaptive design features—like easy-to-use closures, softer materials, stretch that accommodates seated or supine wear, and sizing that considers mobility aids—aren’t just convenient. They’re essential. They allow disabled wearers to move more freely, dress independently, and care for themselves with dignity.

This is why inclusive design matters. It’s not about offering a few “accessible” options as an afterthought—it’s about reimagining gender-affirming fashion from the ground up, so that no one is left behind.

Gender Identity and Ability

Finding gender-affirming clothing can be tough at the best of times—but for folks who are disabled and trans, it often means navigating a system that wasn’t built with you in mind. The intersection of gender identity and ability brings with it unique challenges, and unfortunately, not enough research or product development is keeping up.

We know that trans people are more likely to be disabled than their cisgender peers. In fact, studies show that 27% of trans adults report at least one disability by age 20, and that number jumps to 39% by age 55. That’s nearly double the rate for cisgender adults. And yet, when it comes to gender-affirming garments like gaffs, binders, or compression swimwear, the needs of disabled wearers are rarely addressed.

Even among disabled trans folks, the types of ability vary. Developmental disabilities are more frequently reported as a primary condition compared to the broader population, while physical and mobility-based conditions are slightly less common. On top of that, gender-nonconforming people across the board experience higher rates of chronic illness, mental health struggles, and other disabling conditions.

For many, caring for the body can already feel complicated because of gender dysphoria. Add fluctuating pain, mobility issues, or sensory sensitivity into the mix, and daily care can become even more challenging. When basic products like binders or underwear aren’t designed with these realities in mind, the result can be more than just physical discomfort—it can create a barrier to self-expression and self-worth.

Real-Life Experience: Renée’s Right to Sing Program

Renée Yoxon knows firsthand how vital it is to design gender-affirming care that works with—not against—the body. A few years ago, they created The Right to Sing Award, a scholarship that offered free singing lessons specifically for trans and disabled people.

Every single recipient identified as both trans and disabled. Many shared that chronic pain, fatigue, mental health challenges, or their neurotype had made traditional voice training feel out of reach.

Renée responded by designing lessons that were gentle, flexible, and adaptive—practices that could be done from bed, on low-energy days, or with limited focus. Rather than pushing through discomfort, the goal was to meet students where they were and to help them access the joy of voice work in a way that felt possible.

For many, it was the first time voice training didn’t feel overwhelming or out of bounds. It was the first time they were told: you deserve to be heard, just as you are.

This small, community-rooted program echoed what the data keeps telling us: access needs aren’t an edge case—they’re prevalent. If we want gender-affirming care to truly affirm, it has to be designed for the many ways bodies and minds move through the world.

The Legal Landscape: Between Protection and Pathologization

When it comes to policy, the rights of trans and disabled people often fall through the cracks—especially when those identities intersect. Legal frameworks like the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) were created to protect access and prevent discrimination, but historically, transgender-related diagnoses were excluded from those protections.

Only recently have court rulings begun to shift that narrative, recognizing that gender dysphoria may qualify as a protected disability under certain circumstances. For some, this marks a step toward much-needed legal recognition and accommodation in workplaces, healthcare, and public spaces.

But the path isn’t simple. There’s an ongoing debate about whether leaning into a disability framework helps or harms our communities. On the one hand, it can offer trans people stronger legal protections. On the other, it risks further medicalizing or pathologizing trans identities—and could reinforce the very stigma we’re trying to undo.

For disabled folks seeking gender-affirming care, this can create a double bind. Systems meant to protect access may end up gatekeeping it instead, especially when trans needs are seen as "extra" or illegitimate.

This is why it’s so important to advocate for policy that centers care, autonomy, and self-determination, not just checkboxes. Because liberation shouldn’t come with a diagnostic code.

Real-Life Experience: When Access Comes at a Cost

Renée has seen firsthand how our systems often force people to choose between dignity and access. In the world of gender-affirming voice care (GAVC), speech-language pathologists (SLPs) are frequently required to classify a trans person’s voice as disordered in order to access insurance coverage.

That means labelling someone’s voice—something deeply personal and expressive—as dysfunctional just to unlock care.

For some, this opens the door to vital services. But it also reinforces a system that pathologizes trans identity. It tells us that in order to be supported, we first have to be diagnosed as broken.

And for folks who are both trans and disabled, the impact is even more complex. These layered identities already carry enough stigma. Adding another gate, another label, another hoop to jump through only makes access more distant and more painful.

Our current systems tend to fund care only when there’s a diagnosis to justify it. But when that care is tied to being seen as sick or deficient, the process itself becomes dehumanizing.

We deserve better. We deserve models of support that affirm identity without medicalizing it—and systems that see gender-affirming care as a right, not a loophole.

What Disability Justice Teaches Us

“In the face of systems that want us dead, sick, and disabled, people have been finding ways to care for ourselves and each other for a long time.” -Leah Lakshimi Piepzna Samarasinha, Care Work: Dreaming Disability Justice 

At its core, disability justice is about more than ramps and diagnoses—it’s about reimagining a world where all bodies, minds, and identities are not just included, but validated, celebrated, and afforded access to appropriate care. 

Disability justice activism pushes back against ableism, cisnormativity, and the narrow medical models that try to define who is “normal” and who needs “fixing.” It fosters intersectional solidarity and creates space for collective empowerment, healing, and resistance.

Much of this work has been led by queer and trans people of color, who’ve long held the wisdom that both transness and being disabled are not conditions to be cured—but ways of being that deserve care, autonomy, and joy. These movements reject the idea that support must come through a diagnosis, and instead call for healing justice and communal care—care that’s rooted in relationships, not bureaucracy.

There are deep, painful histories that connect trans and disabled communities. Both have been medicalized, erased, institutionalized, and labelled as “monstrous” for simply existing outside the expected norm. And while society may try to separate these identities, they often live in the same body.

One powerful truth that disability activism reminds us of: disability is the only marginalized group that anyone can join at any time, and most people will join if they live long enough. That means access is not a niche issue. It’s all of our issue.

But for many trans folks—who already spend so much time advocating for basic rights—having to advocate for access needs on top of that can feel overwhelming. Burnout is real, and so is the grief of having to fight twice as hard to be seen, supported, and safe.

That’s why disability justice offers not just critique, but vision. A pathway forward. Here are some of the guiding principles that ground this work:

• Intersectionality
   Our gender, our ability, our race, our class—all of these identities shape how we move through the world. We don’t live in silos, and our struggles aren’t separate either.
  

• Representational Leadership
  Nothing about us without us. People with lived experience must be centered in decision-making and design, especially when it comes to creating accessible, affirming spaces.
  

• Anti-Capitalism
  The dominant system tells us that productivity is value. But the truth is, the colonial, white supremacist, capitalist model of “normal” actively erases disabled people. It’s not us who need to adapt—it’s the system.
  

• Collective Access
  There is no one-size-fits-all solution. Access looks different for everyone. Collective access means building environments where everyone’s needs are respected, without shame.
  

• Collective Liberation
  As Audre Lorde said: "There is no such thing as a single-issue struggle because we do not live single-issue lives." Our liberation is bound up together. No one is free until we’re all free.

These principles, adapted from “Plural, Trans, and Disabled” by (team) Meg-John Barker, offer a compass. A reminder that we don’t have to do this alone. And that a more accessible, affirming world isn’t just possible—it’s already being built.

What Access Really Looks Like

When we talk about access to gender-affirming care, it’s important to remember: not all barriers are visible. And for trans people who are also disabled, those barriers multiply fast.

Let’s start with healthcare. Trans folks already face discrimination, misgendering, and the burden of having to explain their identities to uninformed providers. But when you’re also disabled, that list grows. It can mean having to explain two core aspects of your identity just to get basic care. It can mean providers who don’t understand how your body moves, how you communicate, or what your access needs are.

Sometimes, it’s not even about the provider—it’s about the building. Clinics may not be wheelchair accessible. Appointments might not offer ASL or interpretation services. The forms aren’t built with nuance. The waiting rooms are overstimulating. The energy required to advocate for yourself, for your identity, for your body, is constant.

And when you’ve faced discrimination before (which so many of us have), it’s no wonder people avoid seeking care at all.

The data backs this up: people who are both trans and disabled are more likely to face overt discrimination, poor treatment, and limited access to competent providers. The result? Worse outcomes, and a system that fails the very people who need it most.

But healthcare is just one piece of the puzzle.

Intersectional Barriers Go Beyond the Doctor’s Office

Being trans and disabled doesn’t exist in a vacuum. These identities often intersect with race, age, income, immigration status, HIV status, education level, and more. Each of these layers adds another point of friction—another place where someone might be denied care, misunderstood, or priced out entirely.

On top of that, stigma around both gender identity and ability can keep us from building the social networks we need. Whether it’s feeling excluded from community events, being judged in public spaces, or lacking access to affirming peer support, the isolation can be real—and it hurts.

And then there are the legal and systemic barriers. In many regions, trans people still need a psychiatric diagnosis to access gender-affirming care. Others face age restrictions, waiting lists, and endless referrals just to start. For folks who are disabled, that gatekeeping can be even more intense. And with the rise of anti-LGBTQ+ legislation in some areas, access is being stripped away even further.

The Financial Reality

Access is also deeply tied to money. Gender-affirming garments, surgeries, therapy, and voice care—it all adds up. And the truth is, many of these things aren’t covered by insurance. Even when they are covered, getting approvals often requires navigating complex systems and jumping through exhausting hoops.

For trans people—especially those who are disabled—employment discrimination is still a major issue. Hiring bias, workplace harassment, pay gaps, lack of training opportunities, and reduced access to healthcare benefits all contribute to economic insecurity. The result? Fewer job opportunities, fewer protections, and fewer resources to pay for the care we need.

Real-Life Experience: When the Body Sets the Terms

For many disabled trans people, access to gender-affirming care isn’t just a matter of cost or legal hoops—it’s about the body itself.

Some folks are simply too sick, in too much pain, or too medically vulnerable to pursue the care they need—even when that care is deeply, desperately wanted. For others, managing ongoing or acute health conditions means that gender-affirming care takes a back seat. Not because it matters less, but because the body demands that other needs come first.

Renée knows this all too well. For a long time, they had written off medical transition, or even binding, entirely. Years of chronic pain and medical trauma made the idea of surgery or gender affirmation gear feel impossible, not just physically, but emotionally. It wasn’t that they didn’t want it. It was that the reality of navigating those procedures, in a body already carrying so much, felt like too high a cost.

It wasn’t until Renée’s pain became more manageable that medical transition even started to feel like an option again. But that journey of putting care on hold, of having to wait to feel affirmed, is one that so many trans folks with complex bodies know intimately.

And even when someone is ready, finding a provider who understands both disability and gender identity can feel like searching for a unicorn. The emotional labor of having to explain, to educate, to self-advocate at every step—it’s exhausting.

This is why it’s so important to recognize that not everyone can, or wants to, pursue medical transition in the same way. And that doesn’t make their identity any less valid. The work of gender affirmation must include all bodies, not just the ones that fit into neat, clinical categories.

Gender Gear & Disabled Bodies

Let’s talk about what it means to use gender gear—like binders or gaffs—when you’re also managing a disabled body.

Whether you’re binding, tucking, taping, or gaffing, the number one thing to remember is this: listen to your body.

Discomfort, pain, dizziness, shortness of breath—these are not things to push through. Gender-affirming gear should support your identity, not compromise your well-being. What feels euphoric one day may feel overwhelming the next. And that’s okay.

There’s already a TON of information here, so we won’t go over the basic safety information for tucking and binding here. 

We’ve developed comprehensive user guides for both binding and gaffing, with the latest medical info, side-by-side method comparisons, and important do’s and don’ts. Those guides are available for free on our blog- 

Tucking Guide 

Binding Guide

What We Can—and Can’t—Cover

There are as many variations in ability as there are bodies, and no one-size-fits-all advice will work for everyone. Today, we’re offering a high-level overview based on some of the more common long-term conditions that might impact how you bind or gaff.

We haven’t included tape in today’s session beyond a brief mention—it can be a great alternative or supplement to gaffing and binding, and you can find more about the pros and cons of using tape vs. gaffing or binding in the guides above. 

How Different Types of Disability May Impact Binding and Gaffing

We’ve grouped some common access concerns into categories to help highlight where adaptations may be needed:

• Muscle Conditions
   ALS, MS, or loss of motor function may make it difficult to put on or adjust gear. Stretch fabrics, side or front openings, and magnetic closures can help.
  

• Organ Conditions
   GERD, IBD (like Crohn’s, colitis, IBS, or Celiac), or asthma can make compression uncomfortable or unsafe. Compression across the chest or abdomen may aggravate symptoms. Breathing and digestion always come first—choose lighter support and take breaks often.
  

• Bones & Joints
   Conditions like fibromyalgia, scoliosis, arthritis, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (HSD), TMJD, or chronic migraines can all interact differently with gear. Pain flares, joint instability, and sensitivity to pressure are real concerns. Soft materials, adaptive shapes, and customizable sizing are key.
  

• Skin & Sensory Systems
  Sensory processing differences—whether related to autism, ADHD, or other conditions —can make tight, restrictive, or textured garments feel intolerable. Look for smooth seams, tagless construction, breathable fabrics, and garments that feel good, not just look good.
  

• Wheelchair Users
  Gear needs to function well while seated for long periods. This can mean minimizing pressure points, adapting placement of seams and closures, and using materials that support skin health and circulation.

Binding & Disabled Bodies: Real Adaptations for Conditions

Every body is different—and that means binding needs to be adaptable too. For folks who are disabled, these gender-affirming tools can bring euphoria, but they can also introduce challenges when not designed with care and flexibility.

This section offers a deeper dive into how various conditions may affect your experience with binding and what you can do to support your body in feeling affirmed and safe.

Muscle-Based Conditions

ALS (Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis), MS (Multiple Sclerosis), Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA), Muscular Dystrophies, Loss of Motor Function, Stroke, and More
Binding often demands shoulder mobility, grip strength, and dexterity—all of which may be limited depending on your body.

Symptoms:

• Muscle tightness, weakness, or fatigue

• Pain or recovery from injury

• Difficulty pulling a garment over the head

Adaptations:

• Front closures (hooks or zippers) for easier dressing

• Ask for support from a trusted person to assist

• Evenly distribute pressure by starting with a middle hook and working outwards

Organ-Based Conditions

GERD (Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease)
Compression around the chest and stomach can aggravate acid reflux and cause pain.

Symptoms:

• Chest pain, heartburn, laryngitis

• Increased discomfort after eating

Adaptations:

• Opt for half-length binders or moderate compression styles

• Use front or side closures for easy removal during a flare

• Prioritize binder-free time, especially after meals

• Eat smaller portions more slowly

• Practice diaphragm massage or release techniques
  

IBS & IBD (e.g. Crohn’s, Ulcerative Colitis, IBS, Celiac, etc. )

Binding during a flare can exacerbate pain, bloating, or digestive issues.

Symptoms:

• Abdominal swelling, cramping, diarrhea or constipation

•  Binding during a flare can exacerbate pain, bloating, or digestive issues.
  
  

Adaptations:

• Correct sizing is key—don’t size down

• Use light or medium compression styles

• Avoid binding during flares

• Consider taping as an alternative on high-pain days
  
  

Breathing Conditions

Asthma
Compression can limit lung expansion and make it harder to breathe, especially during a flare.

Symptoms:

• Shortness of breath, chest tightness, wheezing
  
  

Adaptations:

• Choose light/moderate binders with stretchy fabrics

• Use hook/zip options for faster removal

• Avoid racerback styles, which put pressure across the chest and shoulders
  Don’t bind during cardio or allergy flare-ups

• Always carry a rescue inhaler

• Try diaphragm massage and breathing exercises

Joint & Bone-Related Conditions

Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, Fibromyalgia, Scoliosis, Arthritis, Hypermobility Spectrum Disorders (HSD), and More
Compression can lead to joint subluxations, soft tissue strain, and worsening chronic pain.

Symptoms:

• Joint instability, dislocations, muscle fatigue, chronic pain
  
  

Adaptations:

• Custom-made binders to avoid pressure points

• Stick to light/moderate compression

• Avoid over-the-head binders—zip or hook closures are often gentler

• Consider athletic compression shirts or taping (if skin allows)

• Limit the duration and frequency of wear

• Work with a physiotherapist to create a supportive plan
  
  

Renée’s experience: “This was the only type of binder that worked for me. Pulling one over my head would sublux my shoulder. I lived with shoulder tendinitis, bursitis, and chronic back and joint pain. Zip-front styles made all the difference.”

TMJD (Temporomandibular Joint Disorder)
Straps that pull the shoulders forward can exacerbate jaw pain and tension.

Symptoms:

• Jaw clicking, pain near ears, difficulty opening mouth
  
  

Adaptations:

• Avoid racerbacks and tight shoulder straps

• Choose designs that minimize pressure on traps and upper shoulders

• Avoid binders that use the same compression material in straps as in the front panel

• Consider binding alternatives like taping during flare-ups

Migraines & Cervicogenic Headaches

Forward head posture (FHP) from binding can increase tension at the base of the skull and neck.

Symptoms:

• Migraines, neck pain, light/sound sensitivity
  
  

Adaptations:

• Use binders that don’t press on shoulder/neck junctions

• Keep compression light, and avoid tight racerback straps
  Take binding breaks, especially on high-pain days

• Try taping or soft binders when you’re flaring

Sensory Processing & Skin Sensitivities

Sensory Processing Disorder (Autism Spectrum Disorder, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), Anxiety Disorders, Developmental Delays, etc.)

Symptoms:

• Overstimulation from texture, seams, and fasteners

• Pain or irritation from zippers, velcro, or itchy tags
  
  

Adaptations:

• Choose tagless, seamless, reversible garments

• Avoid harsh fasteners—go for soft, simple designs

• Keep skin clean and dry—use baby powder to reduce irritation

• Look for binders with elastic edges instead of stiff hems

Wheelchair Users

Adaptations:

• Choose side or front-opening styles for easier dressing

• Taping may work better depending on mobility range

• If you're newly using a chair, your upper body may change—wait before investing in a long-term binder

• Focus on fit while seated—some styles are better designed for upright wear
  
  

Heat-Related Illness

Heat exhaustion and heatstroke are common risks when binding in hot environments. Binders trap body heat and sweat, which disrupts your natural cooling systems.

High-risk environments:

• Humid climates

• Kitchens, workshops

• Outdoor activities without shade

• Playing sports or active play with kids
  
  

Adaptations:

• Choose breathable binders and lighter layers

• Stay hydrated, wear hats, and stick to light colors

• Rest often, seek shade, and know the early signs of heat illness

• Keep a cooling plan—water access, misting station, or AC

A Note on Zipper and Hook Closure Safety

Let’s clear something up: zipper and hook closures on your binder are not inherently unsafe.

There’s a common myth that these options cause uneven compression—but that’s based on one outdated surgical-style binder from years ago, not on today’s affirming designs. A zipper or hooks create a seam, just like any other part of the garment.

Closures make binders easier to put on and allow for a quick release if you’re in pain, overstimulated, or struggling to breathe. For many folks, hooks or zippers are the only way to wear a binder that actually fits and compresses correctly. And when sized correctly and used with care, they’re not just safe- they allow people to bind when it may not otherwise be accessible to them.

Tucking & Gaffing for Disabled Bodies

Tucking can be a deeply affirming practice for many trans and non-binary folks—but like so much about gender-affirmation, especially when it relates to trans-feminism, it hasn’t been widely studied. That means most of what we know about safe, sustainable tucking comes not from research, but from community wisdom—shared experiences, trial and error, and hard-earned knowledge passed between wearers.

Gaffing 101: Safety First

Before anything else, start slow. Tucking is a process, and it’s okay to experiment with what works best for your body. Here are a few foundational best practices:

• Stick to safe timelines – Don’t wear a gaff for longer than your body can comfortably tolerate. Take breaks, especially if you’re just starting.

• Know your materials – Stretchy gaffs offer more comfort and flexibility, while non-stretch options may give a firmer hold but can be less forgiving.

• Get the right fit – Proper sizing and gusset width are key to preventing pain, pressure points, or skin issues.

• Stay hydrated – Yes, really. Tucking in tight garments can increase your core temperature. Drink water and monitor how your body feels.

Skin Care & External Genitalia

Tucking places compression on a sensitive area of the body, so skin health is essential. These tips can help reduce discomfort and lower your risk of irritation or infection:

• Choose a gusset width that gives you enough space for your body, especially if you’re not tucking tightly.

• If you’re extra sensitive, use soft tissue or a folded liner to create a gentle barrier.

• Consider clipping or trimming hair to reduce friction and pulling.

• Use baby powder or antifungal powders to keep the area dry and clean, especially in warm weather.

• Prioritize breathable, moisture-wicking fabrics to reduce heat and irritation.

Gaffing & Wheelchair Use

If you’re a wheelchair user, comfort and access need to come first. Here’s what to consider:

• Choose a higher-rise gaff to ensure full coverage, especially across the backside.

• Look for soft, stretchy leg openings that won’t dig into your skin when seated.

• A boyshort or fuller cut can be more comfortable and better aligned with how seams rest on the body while sitting.

• If you have reduced sensation in the lower body, try setting a phone reminder to check your skin periodically to catch any irritation, chaffing, cutting in, or hot spots early.

Dexterity, Mobility & Gaff-Free Options

For folks with limited hand or torso mobility, the act of tucking may simply not be possible, or may require support from a caregiver or trusted person.

That’s totally valid. Tucking is a personal choice, not a requirement for gender affirmation.

If tucking isn’t comfortable or accessible for you, consider wearing a flat-front compression garment without a tuck. In this case, we recommend choosing a wider gusset that offers enough room for your anatomy without added pressure.

You Deserve Comfort and Affirmation

At the end of the day, gaffing—like binding—isn’t just about aesthetics. It’s about helping you feel more like yourself. Whether you tuck daily, occasionally, or not at all, your gender is valid, and your comfort matters.

Explore what works. Adjust when needed. Ask for help if it’s available. And remember: there’s no “correct” way to do this—only the way that feels best for you.