When SLM’s elegant fashion editor, Helene Sayad, had to endure a recent hospital stay, she emerged wailing about the gowns. “All I could think about was how awful they were! Not only are they so”—she’s reduced to swearing, which she seldom does—“ugly, but they really aren’t that functional. And they aren’t even warm!
“Hospital gowns should be cute. You feel so ugly and awful when you’re sick—and so vulnerable. They should have snaps at the shoulders and open in front, not in back. And come in different weights. And maybe not be quite so shapeless. And have more sophisticated patterns where you don’t feel like you’re in a big toddler outfit.”
Your guide to a healthier, happier you
Sign up for the St. Louis Wellness newsletter and get practical tips for a balanced, healthy life in St. Louis.
Many toddler outfits, we decide, are more sophisticated.
Granted, health care has more important things to worry about. But five years ago, when the Cleveland Clinic commissioned fashion designer Diane von Furstenberg to create a better alternative, patients’ morale shot way up. She designed them a reversible gown with a V neck in front and back, pockets, a softer fabric and a bolder print. It covered patients’ bottoms. “People felt much more comfortable in the new design, not just physically but emotionally,” reported Adrienne Boissy, chief experience officer at the hospital system.
And the same year, the U.K.’s Department of Health commissioned designer Ben de Lisi to reimagine their hospital gowns. He came up with a closed back; the gown fastens with plastic poppers that start at the top of the left shoulder and go around the gown. It’s reversible, with a round or V neck depending on where caregivers need access. And it’s a cheerful blue and white or blue, taupe and white stripe. Accessories included cropped pajama bottoms, a matching carry pouch, and a pashmina fleece.
Wondering if any of St. Louis’ hospitals had gone designer, we took a quick poll. Mercy Hospital St. Louis has a gown with a “whitish/gray/blue background and some design,” tied in the back although some have snaps on the arm for IVs. Christian Hospital has a white gown with soft gray flecks and tiny teal feathers, barely discernible, and snaps on the backside. SSM Health Care-St. Louis has a pale gown with a dot pattern and three-quarter length dolman sleeves. St. Anthony’s Medical Center has a green and white gown with a
pocket in front to hold a telemetry monitor, and it ties in the back and has snaps on the sleeves. Tenet’s gown is green, sort of a pastel cross-hatch pattern banded in solid green at the neck, and ties in the back.
Green’s not a bad choice—it’s a color said to lower stress, a color of hope. If it’s too pale, though, it can suggest nausea. Yellow’s normally cheery but resembles too many body fluids. Pink’s nice, if the guys would go along. Maybe hospitals could offer pink and blue; sick grown-ups are often big babies anyway. Purple gowns would be regal, but no nurse wants a complaining patient to feel regal…
It’s a tricky endeavor. But a worthwhile one. Detroit’s Henry Ford Health System is updating its gowns because patients described them as “flimsy, humiliating, indecent, and itchy.” The new version is a warmer cotton blend that wraps around the body like a robe and comes in navy and light blue. And two sisters in Sacramento, both nurses, have started their own business, Annie & Isabel, designing gowns for maternity, cancer care, or hospice. “It’s been so wonderful,” says Anna Ryan, “seeing how our gowns have made a difference in the lives of women fighting tough diagnoses and also helped other women celebrate the births of their children.”
Those are not drab times. They are times when your body needs every scrap of comfort, ease, and dignity it can get.
