Written by María Luisa Mendiola on October 31, 2019
Growing up, I always felt different. Not only did I grow up with a lot of opinions in a conservative, Catholic, Latin American town, but I knew that I would never fit in because of how I looked. I was born with a genetic condition that caused my feet to look different, also
known as brachymetatarsia.
In eighth grade, I remember a photo at the pool where my girlfriends and I were in the water with our feet and legs poolside. In their minds, it was a cute and creative pose. In my mind, it meant trouble. In order to not miss out on the fun, I made sure to do my regular
concealing trick of rolling my toes into a ball. Once that picture was developed (back in the day before smartphones) and passed along to me, I could see that my efforts had been futile. Seeing my feet side-by-side with the other girl’s, it was dreadfully apparent that my fourth toes were noticeably smaller than my fifth. I was different.
When I decided to pursue my master’s degree in design at Central Saint Martins in London, I knew I wanted to focus on two things: swimwear design and body image. Around that time, I read somewhere that over 80% of women were unhappy with how they looked, so I decided to do something about it. Little did I expect that completing my master’s degree
would be a form of therapy. Our instructors encouraged us to reflect on our own experience in order to solve problems, based on the theory that “you cannot bring about change unless you change yourself first.”
Journaling through summer of 2016, I realized that most of the insecurities I felt about my body surrounded my disfigurement. I felt that I was not good enough, not perfect enough. So I decided to learn about the psychology behind the stigma of looking different.
Through my research, I met Dr. Lisa Williams, the head of clinical psychology at London’s Chelsea and Westminster Hospital’s burn unit, who shared with me that a big part of the recovery process centers around developing a narrative that the survivor can use when asked or when she or he wishes to disclose. Owning your story lowers the stigma you feel. Dr. Williams also mentioned that many of her patients had difficulty finding swimsuits they felt comfortable wearing.
Her words were an epiphany. I decided right there and then that I would work with members of the disfigurement community to create swimsuits that told the story behind their difference.
I met with three of Williams’ patients and two members of Changing Faces U.K., a group which supports and advocates for the estimated 1.35 million people in the United Kingdom with a visible difference. They had various types of disfigurement, and none had my condition, but I realized that the differences did not set us apart. It really doesn’t matter what type of disfigurement you have, the experience is very similar. We bonded over the stares we had received, the awkward questions, and the all-too-similar feelings of isolation and shame.
One woman told me that she had not been swimming since her injury because the swimwear available was too revealing of her scars. So I designed a high-neck swimsuit with a pattern made from a photo of her scar. Soon she was able to enjoy swimming with her 8-year-old son, empowered by both the design and the narrative — the story of her disfigurement — that was printed inside the swimsuit.
Another woman I met told me halfway through the cut-and-sew process that she now wanted to reveal the scars she had previously asked me to conceal. This wonderful lady is now the Instagram sensation behind @love_disfigure.
For our most recent collection, I met a burn survivor who told me she wanted a protective swimsuit that was also “sexy.” I designed for her a bold swimsuit design that featured one long sleeve which offered protection for her burn scars, while also having a flattering oval
cutout on the chest area.
Listening to these women’s experience with disfigurement and how they overcome adversity made me feel honored to know them. After our meetings, I started wearing a T-shirt I had embroidered with the unique outline of my foot. The more we worked together, the more comfortable I felt about my disfigurement.
Helping someone through a body-love healing process is as much about them as it is about you. Body-esteem, or the self-evaluation you make about your appearance, is fluid. Within the same hour — or even minute — you can feel completely different about your body. The journey is infinite.
All my life, I had searched tirelessly for footprints that looked like mine. I stopped searching after I began this project of designing swimwear. I no longer feel alone or carry the weight of secrecy. When you meet me, the first thing you know about me is that I have disfigurement, and I am proud of it. I wear flip-flops more often, and on the days when I feel like concealing, I remind myself of the female powerhouses I have met along the way that have encouraged me to accept all of me.
María Luisa Mendiola was drawn to swimsuits with a bold design in an effort to distract attention from her feet growing up in Costa Rica. She left a career in finance to complete a master’s degree, and her design project has now become MIGA Swimwear, a line for women that have disfigurement from birth defects and burn scars to paralysis and skin diseases. Sign up for the e-newsletter on the website for updates on swimwear availability. She is forever thankful to be in this journey with Helen, Sylvia, Camila, Anne, Cath, Mio, Isabel, and Kat who inspired her designs.