The adjustable slippers we gave him a couple of years ago were fine for casual wear at the time, and I’d still recommend them highly. Now, though, dad’s legs and feet need a bit more coddling: These sheepskin slippers, made by Old Friend, are just the thing. The heel makes them feel like shoes, and helps to keep them on Dad’s feet; the velcro over the top of the foot allows the slipper to be readjusted day-by-day as needed.

The wool fleece lining is light and airy, keeping pressure off Dad’s feet, and the open toes keep air circulating around his nails to minimize problems in that area.

Best of all, these slippers are cozy and luxurious, just like the traditional sheepskin slippers he used to wear and love.

That’s the good news. The bad news is that it took me several days of diligent hunting to find them in Dad’s size. One shop owner told me that he’d gotten a huge number in last year but had a terrible time “getting rid of them”! My advice? Snatch them up as soon as you find them — they’re a great idea, but I don’t think many people know they exist.

I found Dad’s at Muldoon’s in Wisconsin; Zappos also carries them, but they were out of his size, and I didn’t want to wait.

Note: Old Friend recommends freshening sheepskin footwear by dusting the interior with baking soda and letting it sit over night. Shake or vacuum the soda out the next day. Fashionistas who are slaves to the ubiquitous sheepskin boot, take note!

Tiny, but brilliant, LED lights are embedded in the front of each slipper. There’s a sensor on one side of the slipper, which turns on the LED only when it’s dark. Batteries go in a slot on the other side of each slipper.

I was a little dubious about the quality of the illumination before I tried them, but I shouldn’t have been. LEDs are powerful, and these slippers provide an amazing range of vision. (Twenty to 25 feet, according to the manufacturer. That seems about right to me.) You don’t have to watch your feet; instead you just look normally ahead to where you are going. I’ve never felt so safe walking around a darkened house.

Much to my surprise, these are also extremely comfortable slippers, with plenty of padding in the sole. I’d rank their comfort level right up there with the best slippers I’ve owned. The non-slip soles are lightweight and sturdy, and the pair I have fit me perfectly.

At first, I noticed that the left slipper’s light didn’t go on as quickly as the right, but re-seating my foot, and putting a little more pressure in the toe area (as suggested by the manufacturer) solved that problem.

Unlike other slippers, though, these can’t go in the washing machine — surface washing will have to do. They’re fine for indoor and outdoor use, but, naturally, can’t be worn where water is likely to get into them.

Strangely, these slippers don’t come in a closed-heel style, making them a poor choice for homes with stairs, or for anyone whose gait or balance would be negatively affected by wearing slip-on, clog-style footwear. We have stairs, and I need those closed backs to navigate safely, so I’ll be adding a strap across the back of each slipper. But hey, Bright Feet, how about a choice of styles for greater safety?

Bright Feet Lighted Slippers, available for men and women in Stripe, Navy, Black, Pink, Beige, and Camo (yes, that’s really camouflage on the left above!)

As my dad’s body has begun to stiffen and his spatial sense declines, eating has become a bit untidy. Getting dressed is more difficult, too. I love the idea of a shirt front that zips off easily and can be replaced as soon as a meal is over. “It’s a matter of dignity,” said the designer. So it is — and comfort and hygiene, too, for that matter.

I asked about men’s shirts, and was shown a prototype — a standard athletic-type style, with raglan sleeves, and ‘invisible’ zippers in the side and sleeve seams. Good-looking enough, except for one thing: the entire front is bright white.

“Why?” I asked, mentioning that, in a nursing home setting, there wasn’t really much chance that white would stay white for long. My dad has a private laundress, but her emphasis is on sanitation, not the on the finer details of making whites sparkle.

The designer looked stricken. He’d just ordered the men’s shirts, and every one has a white front with primary colored sleeves. Likewise, all of the women’s designs on the website are white (although a model at the expo was wearing a pale green long-sleeved women’s tee). How did he miss this?

Unfortunately, there’s not much on the cluttered and confusing website that clearly explains the adaptive virtues of this clothing, and there’s no option allowing customers to purchase extra shirt fronts — a great idea if they might be replaced after each meal. And that white stuff is a real deal-breaker for me. It’s just not practical. And aren’t practicality and convenience the whole point?

Sadly, this product gets my ‘Not Ready for Prime Time’ award for an apparent lack of research and testing in the real world and for a general failure (on the website) to identify and clearly state benefits to consumer.

Prediction: Failing to do the homework before bringing the goods to market means these products won’t be available long.

Quick Change Clothing — Great idea, poor execution. The guest book on the website is full of Viagra ads and comments from spammers. Somebody really isn’t paying attention here.

Gratuitous advice to would-be entrepreneurs: Check out Dave Ramsey, and listen carefully to his ’small business’ radio broadcasts. He understands entrepreneurial zeal, and offers a slew of sensible, practical ways of marketing dreams so that goals get met and income results. Hint: his plans involve moving slowly, paying attention to details, and understanding both the competition and your niche.

The circles on these ring zipper pulls (above, left) are easy to grab, and simple hooks click right onto the zipper tab. If it’s hard to grasp the ring, putting a finger — even a pinky — into the circle works, too. Check with the manufacturer to be sure, but these can probably be left on when doing laundry, though I’d wary of leaving them on anything that might snag. Active Forever carries these, but you may be able to find them at local crafts stores, too.

Case Logic makes this rubber zipper pull (right) — it’s called “oversized” on Amazon, but there’s no indication of what that really means. A rubbery texture is usually easier to hold onto than metal, and “oversized” may mean that this zipper pull is easier to find on clothing than smaller types — important if dexterity or limited vision are issues. Amazon says the clip is “key ring style” but it looks like a simple clip, rather than the most common split ring used for keys. That’s good — you’d want the simple clip if you plan to remove the pull for washing.

la petite, a notions company, sells this more elegant zipper pull (left) in goldtone and silvertone; it’s available at most fabric stores, and at other places where sewing notions are sold (WalMart, variety stores). Look in the button section. This one must be removed for washing or dry cleaning; you may find others in the same section that aren’t quite so finicky. This style is a good choice if an existing zipper pull just needs to be lengthened. Because it’s slim, though, it’s not really easy to hold if your fingers are uncooperative.

These pulls to the right are made of cord, and they’re probably the most user-friendly and least obtrusive of the lot — though, obviously, better suited to sports clothes than to silks. Installation is easy; just push the cord loop through the hole in the existing zipper pull, push the plastic end through the loop, and viola! The plastic tab is easy to hold onto, and the cord forms a loop for those who find it easier to hook a finger into the loop and pull the zipper that way. Amazon sells these; you can often find similar ones at sports recreation stores like EMS and REI, or where camping supplies are sold. I’ve used this kind for years; they’re light, comfortable and no problem in the laundry.

Another option is DIY: craft stores sell small hooks (look in the beading section, or where leather goods and lanyard kits are stocked), and plenty of beads and decorative charms to customize your own zipper pulls. Be cautious about tossing these into the laundry, though, unless you’ve tested them beforehand.

You might be able to find more elegant materials for DIY zipper pulls at department stores and some jewelry stores. A plain, non-moving, sterling charm should stand up to laundering just fine if coupled with a better quality hook. Not a bad gift idea, especially if it means that Mom or Dad can wear a favorite top again. (Yes, you can probably find a lot of Dad-friendly charms!)

First, my dad’s happy with them, and they really do look pretty much like conventional khakis when he’s sitting. They fit him comfortably. The fabric isn’t the quality of LL Bean, dad’s favorites, and I thought the weave was a bit coarse and the texture a bit rough — but LL Bean is intentionally using a cotton with a softer ‘hand’, and doesn’t have to use the 10 ounce weight I specified. The softness vs. strength trade-off is probably unavoidable.

The seat is cut to be roomy, and the back waist rises (see above, left) so that there’s plenty of coverage when seated — both good features. I’m not sure how the wide back waist elastic will stand up to institutional washing — it’s a lighter weight than I would have chosen. Workmanship was good, but not excellent — most of the belt loops needed to have threads clipped, and none of the cut edges on the loops are finished, so I’m expecting them to unravel in the wash.

The lifting straps at the knee seem to be stitched adequately, but the transfer strap (“transfer straps – $5″) was a surprise — I had assumed it was a single strap across the back of the pants just below the waistband. Turns out it’s two loops sewn onto the elastic waist band. Though neatly made, they look a bit crude, and stick straight up — but maybe they have to, if they’re going to act as handles. A strap across the back would probably be less obtrusive. I’m not sure which would be better to lean against. As it turns out, we probably won’t be testing their strength, as Dad now requires two people to help him transfer, and they are holding tightly to him instead of to his clothing.

Total price with shipping and the customization (straps) was around $80 USD — they would have been more if I’d had pockets added (which, in retrospect, I probably should have done). As the website notes, the front pockets aren’t real — they’re just stitched to look like regular pants. (That’s so thumbs won’t catch in them when using the chair.)

Now the bad news:

I tried to place the order originally on March 23. I sent an email, specifying the type of pants I wanted, asking a couple of questions which weren’t adequately addressed on the website, and requesting a phone call so that I could confirm the details and supply my card number for payment over the phone — the only way to pay, other than by sending the order through the mail.

By April 3, I still had no response, so I called the number on the website. My number’s unlisted (and blocked so that businesses can’t see it), and their number refused my call. At this point, not very happy, I sent another email (including a copy of the original.) I got an immediate reply from Darlene, saying that she didn’t check her email anymore, and that her new office person might have missed mine. She said someone would call me the next day — which Cindy did, promptly.

Cindy, it turned out, was in New Mexico, and couldn’t answer questions about customization of the pants, or about what was in stock, because the inventory is apparently in Oklahoma (where Darlene was). She mentioned that there had been various problems with getting fabric from suppliers, and that orders are running six to eight weeks behind. She thought I might be able to get the pants immediately, though, if they had the right size on the shelf.

So I made yet another call, to Oklahoma, to find out what was on the shelf. Turns out the size chart on the website isn’t actually how they figure size — weight is more important. My dad, at 220 pounds, with a 44 inch waist, takes a size 40. No way to figure that out on the website, which is a tangled mess from start to finish.

There was a pair of size 40 khakis on the shelf, and Darlene said she could make the simple modifications I wanted right away — adding lifting straps at the knees, and a transfer strap at the waist. That promise was kept, and they arrived very quickly.

Both of the people I talked to were extremely nice, but this was a very frustrating transaction from start to finish. If you’re not in a hurry, and if you expect to develop a long-term relationship with wheelchairjeans.com, all this bother might be worth it. If you need pants for the short term, you might just want to stick with sweatpants.

Khakis from USA Wheelchair Pants or USA Jeans Specialty Pants or USAJeans.net . . . you get to pick what you call them, I guess — there’s no consistent name on the website.

Previously: Jeans for People Who Use Wheelchairs

Well, maybe. Bras that open in the front aren’t exactly jumping off the racks, as you know if you’ve looked lately. You might get lucky, but the odds are against it. Hanes has a few on their website, though buying fitted bras-by-mail is a dubious enterprise at best. Availability at your local store, as my fellow shopper discovered, may be spotty. If you’re having surgery (or you’ve been injured) anywhere near your upper extremities, though, the last thing you want to tangle with is a back-closing bra.

If a “leisure bra” will fit the bill, the Vermont Country Store offers one that opens with conventional hooks in front, and another one that uses a zipper. They won’t be as supportive as a structured bra, but might be more comfortable than a standard bra if you’re recovering from surgery. The hook model comes in sizes 38 through 40 with a choice of cup sizes (M: C,D,E or L: F,G,H). The zip model (top, left, above) comes in Small (34-36) through 4x (46-48), cup sizes C to DD.

Or you can modify any style you like. Sewing and fabric stores usually sell replacement hook-and-eye tape to repair bras. Pick up a set and cut your bra up the front and sew the new hooks in the front.

This one, from Hanes, is just about perfect for alteration, since it has decorative strip up the front, with the sides already finished. Some careful snipping, a few stitches, and you’ll be getting in and out of this one as easily as wearing a cardigan. It isn’t available larger than a 40 B-C, though.

No fabric store nearby? Are you more intrepid than most? Try a lingerie supply shop. Bra Making Supplies not only sells the hook-and-eye tape, but also everything else you might want to make your own bras. Could be easier than shopping (and more satisfactory), in the long run.

Fleece, with a soft, light, high collar, rollback sleeves, and pockets, too. The back overlaps and closes with Velcro.

Jealous because you want one, but don’t use a wheelchair? Fear not, Buck and Buck also offers it as a standard coat.

Companies that carry clothes meant for people who have difficulty dressing typically offer sack-like gowns for women, but there really are some better choices. At Buck and Buck you can find muu-muus, if you must have them, but also quite a few more options, with and without adaptive features, that offer much the same comfort and convenience of nightwear, but with out the associated ‘I’m living in bed’ curse.

A few examples:

The snap-back dresses above left look like jumper-and-blouse sets, but are actually made in one piece, which simplifies dressing, and ensures that the coordinates come back from the laundry together. They have a nice contemporary look without sacrificing comfort or ease-of-wearing.

One of my great-grandmothers, a no-nonsense type, favored the fabled floral house-dresses of yore. For more modern women who also like that garden-party feeling, these Laura Ashley-esque sailor dresses might work well. The drop waist makes for lots of ease, and the collars are a little flirty. These, too, have a snap-back for easy dressing.

The appliques on these sleeker, and maybe a little more sophisticated, knit dresses give them a slightly ‘dressed-up’ feeling, but without the fuss. This model is a pull-over style.

Women who prefer a sportier look and the warmth or comfort of pants might prefer something like this velour pant-set. The top snaps down the back, and the pants have 22-inch-long side zippers extending from the waist down both sides.

Side openings like these can make pants a lot easier to put on than an elastic waist. Putting the zippers down the sides not only makes them easily reachable for the wearer or caregiver, but also means that there’s no zipper bunching across the stomach, and no uncomfortable back zipper to sit on.

Less successful, I think, are Buck and Buck’s one-piece jumpsuits. Jumpsuits are a particular challenge, even in the world of high fashion. They’re pretty uncomfortable to wear if they fit well, and if they don’t fit well, they tend to look like sacks. They’re an excellent choice, though, for people with Alzheimer’s or a similar illness who tend to undress themselves at inappropriate times. Buck and Buck’s back-zipped overalls are, I think the best of the lot and a very close likeness to a popular jumper and overalls style prevalent everywhere.

Buck and Buck have an exceptionally helpful website including a useful “Shop by Need” link, as well as a section called “Understanding our Products” along with several other carefully thought-out features. The site’s well worth a visit if you are wondering about adaptive clothing and uncertain about what might work for you or someone you care for.

A refreshing exception to the ’stiff ‘em if you can’ rule, these garments all cost between $30 and $39 (USD) each.

I suspect that ‘Anna’ dressed carefully before she came to the nursing home, and her family has made sure that she still meets those high standards. There’s nothing faded or tired or defeated about ‘Anna’s’ appearance; the colors she wears invite smiles the way flowers do in spring. ‘Anna’ has difficulty speaking, but she knows that I’ll be smiling as soon as I spot her, and she beams right back. It’s something we both expect now.

Smiles are terrific, but ‘Anna’s’ elegance has a quirky twist — on her feet, virtually every day, are a pair of cozy, and rather goofy, socks. Some days they are just bright stripes — always coordinated with her clothes — and some days they have a theme — bears, or dogs, or a holiday symbol or something of the sort.

You could, quite naturally, tell ‘Anna’ every day that she looks nice — it would be true, but repetitive. However, the socks aren’t anything you can let slide — they demand some kind of specific comment. When I come around the corner, we’re both smiling, but I rarely pass ‘Anna’ without stopping to say something about her socks. I just can’t help it; I have to stop and talk with her for just a few minutes. Clothing, it seems, isn’t always just a question of comfort — sometimes it’s an invitation to interaction. ‘Anna’ can’t easily initiate a conversation, but her socks can — and do.

I suspect that some of ‘Anna’s’ jackets come from L. L. Bean, since they look suspiciously like a favorite style of mine — Bean’s Comfort Fleece cardigan. It’s made with princess seaming, has pockets, big buttons, a little bit of stretch, no weight at all, and is incredibly durable. (I have two and wish I had a dozen.) Couple it with fleece or knit pants, and you really could live in pajama-like comfort while feeling smart and fashionable. Bean doesn’t have ‘Anna’s’ terrific socks, though. You’re on your own for those.

Anchored in two eyelets on either side of the tongue, the strap folds over and fastens with hook-and-loop tape. A D-ring makes grabbing and manipulating easier. One set works for shoes with 2-3 pairs of eyelets; two pair may be needed for 4-6 pair of eyelets.

Available at Elderstore in black, brown, tan and white, though the website only lets you check off tan or brown; a phone call may be in order if you want white or black.

See also:

Locking Shoelaces

Shoelaces – Tie and Wrap