In the movie “Give Me Liberty,” a dark comedy that will screen this month, at the Cannes Film Festival, one of the lead roles is played by Lauren (Lolo) Spencer, a thirty-one-year-old marketing manager and disability-rights advocate from Los Angeles. It was her first acting job. “The producer had a casting friend who was specifically looking for a black girl in a wheelchair,” Spencer, who has been diagnosed as having A.L.S., recounted the other day. “I was, like, ‘Fo’ sho’. I’ll go in there. I’ll talk to whoever I need to talk to.’ ” In the film, which chronicles a winter day in a Milwaukee medical van, Spencer plays a passenger named Tracey. “She’s a don’t-take-no-shit-from-nobody kind of girl,” Spencer said. “Sound like somebody?”
There were two items on Spencer’s agenda that day: a photo shoot for Zappos Adaptive, an offshoot launched two years ago by the online shoe and clothing retailer, and shopping for the Cannes red carpet. It would be her second glitzy screening—“Liberty” had premièred at Sundance—and her first trip overseas. “I’ve been on plenty, plenty planes but never on a ten-hour flight,” said Spencer, who has short purple hair and wore a strapless dress with big silver hoop earrings.
First, the photo shoot. Spencer was joined by two other models, a paraplegic actor named Danny Gomez and a one-handed makeup artist named Chauntal Lewis. The models would be assisted by Stephanie Thomas, a stylist who is adept at choosing clothes for people with disabilities (known as adaptive fashion). Thomas met Spencer two years ago, through Instagram, where Spencer has a big following. (She also has many followers on YouTube, where she hosts a show called “Sitting Pretty,” which, she says, “documents the dope things I do as a person with a disability.”)
Before Thomas’s intervention, Spencer’s style was notably tame. When they first started working together, things didn’t go smoothly. “We fought,” Spencer said.
“A lot,” Thomas added.
Spencer laughed. She said that eventually, after some sparring, “I figured out what I can wear and what options there are, and I opened my mind to more colors, more textures, more patterns.”
Spencer began the shoot by modelling a black-and-white checked dress (no fasteners, easy to slip on) with orange platform sandals (Velcro straps) and orange sunglasses, while seated in her motorized wheelchair. Behind her, an out-of-frame crew member attempted to keep a backdrop of beach balls from collapsing. Spencer also posed in an orange two-piece bathing suit with a black coverup, designed to be shorter than usual so as not to get tangled in the chair’s wheels.
Thomas, who was born with no toes, developed a system for styling clients with disabilities, based on three qualities: accessible, smart, and fashionable. Spencer is a convert. “I can still be stylish and not look like I just came out of a hospital, because that’s what a lot of adaptive fashion looks like,” she explained. “I want to look young, fly, fresh, and fashionable, just like any other woman my age would.”
Thomas pointed out that adaptive fashion is on the rise. Brands such as Nike and Tommy Hilfiger now produce accessible lines. She views this trend as a response to the social-media activism engaged in by people like Spencer, who talk about their lives in frank, relatable ways. Gomez, the paraplegic model, mentioned a Target commercial he had recently appeared in. It featured a family gathering. “I just happened to be in a wheelchair,” he said.
After the shoot, Thomas and Spencer hit the perfumed aisles of Nordstrom. Thomas carried her styling kit, a tackle box full of safety pins, colorful socks, and cardboard toilet-paper tubes (used for tightening up loose bras). “If your stylist don’t show up prepared like this, they ain’t no stylist,” Spencer said.
They discussed how many formal outfits would be needed in Cannes. “There’s guaranteed a Q. & A. and guaranteed a lunch,” Spencer said.
“I want to do one strong look and one soft,” Thomas said. “But both really pretty.” She disappeared into the racks and returned with a metallic-copper raincoat: strong. Spencer smiled and put it on.
Thomas frowned. “This would be a dead giveaway that you’re a newcomer, and thirsty,” she said.
“Thirsty for attention,” Spencer said.
Thomas put the coat aside and disappeared again. She came back brandishing a stretchy fuchsia gown by an Italian designer named Chiara Boni. It had elbow-length sleeves with ruffled cuffs, and no straps or fasteners. Spencer wheeled into a fitting room and tried it on.
A minute later, they were admiring it in a three-way mirror. “V-necks create the illusion of height,” Thomas said.
Spencer leaned forward and stared. “Makes me look like I got booty in the back,” she said. “That’s always the goal.” She was quiet for a moment, thinking about the red carpet in Cannes. “It’s bigger than clothes,” she said.
Thomas nodded, and said, “It’s showing up to the world, out loud and in style.” ♦
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