In high-risk environments like psychiatric hospitals, seclusion units, and secure care facilities, anti-ligature clothing is used to help prevent self-harm. These garments are designed with safety in mind, but too often, they are created without listening to the people who actually wear them.
This article reflects on the lived experience of one individual who spent years in seclusion and secure settings. Her account offers honest and deeply personal insight into what anti-ligature clothing feels like to wear, and what could be done to improve it.
When Fit and Function Are Overlooked
"I was initially in a top and trousers or shorts that would never fit me."
When clothes don’t fit properly, they affect both dignity and function. For people already in distress, clothing that won’t stay up or has to be held closed adds to feelings of shame. She explains:
"In prison, I was only given an open-gown. Many people had ripped the Velcro off, so it was a matter of wandering around having to hold it closed."
This isn’t just inconvenient. It can be traumatic. Without proper replacements or consistent sizing, these garments often make difficult situations worse.
"This was all due to a lack of replacement clothing being available,"
Comfort Is Essential, Not Optional
"This clothing is never built for comfort as it shouldn’t need to be comfortable. But sadly, that is not the reality."
In high-risk settings, comfort often comes last. But when these garments are worn for hours, even days, the lack of comfort builds into something harder to ignore.
"Comfort is the only way I can get through some days,"
She describes thick seams and heavy material, the kind that feels more like a shell than clothing.
"A weighted fabric and damaged Velcro were the shell encasing me that day."
That weight isn’t just metaphorical. Many garments used in seclusion or secure care are built with multiple layers, a design that, while durable, adds physical weight and restricts movement.
By contrast, single-layer garments such as those offered by STRONGTEX provide a different experience. They reduce some of the bulk without compromising on strength, helping to avoid the stiffness and overheating that often come with layered designs. Less weight, fewer seams, and more flexibility might seem like small things, but when someone’s already overwhelmed, they’re not small at all. In environments where emotional safety is already fragile, the clothes someone wears shouldn’t make things harder.
Dignity and Modesty Must Be Protected
"I was covered by what I can only describe as a blanket with Velcro."
Keeping people safe is important, but so is how they feel in the clothes they’re given. Feeling exposed can make an already difficult moment even harder.
"Stealing drawing pins off noticeboards became a hobby, not to self-harm, but to keep my gown closed so that I could have my naked body stay between myself and God."
It’s a powerful reminder that privacy matters. When someone’s going through a crisis, small things like being able to stay covered can help them feel more in control. Gowns are essential in many settings, and while they’re often designed for safety, comfort and dignity should never be afterthoughts. A well-fitting gown that closes properly can make a real difference during someone’s recovery.
Sensory Considerations Matter
"Some textures can also feel physically uncomfortable. We both like clothing that produces a memory of comfort. Something that reminds us of when we weren’t behind closed doors."
How clothing feels can affect how safe or calm a person feels. Rough or unfamiliar textures can make things worse, while soft or familiar ones can be comforting. In trauma-informed care, these details matter. They can help reduce stress and support emotional stability.
Clothing Can Be a Choice
"I never requested my clothes back because I was scared that an impulsive decision would really end my life."
Anti-ligature clothing isn’t always forced. Sometimes it’s chosen. For her, it was a way to feel safe when her thoughts were at their worst.
"Anti-ligature clothing can be a choice - and there is nothing wrong with that," she says.
It’s important to respect those choices and avoid making assumptions. Everyone's needs are different.
Combining the Best of What Works
She also points out that some parts of her clothing worked better than others:
"I liked the trousers in hospital, despite their weight. I liked the top in police custody, because of its fit. I liked the gown in prison, because the material was so lightweight."
That feedback is valuable. It shows that better design is possible by taking what works and combining it. Clothes can be safe and still be comfortable, well-fitted, and dignified. When we listen to people who’ve worn these garments, we learn how to make them better.
Moving Forward with Empathy
"Staff could be better trained to use anti-ligature clothing in a way that’s respectful and trauma-informed."
Good training and respectful handling make a real difference.
"Recovery doesn’t happen inside a hospital or system - it happens within ourselves," she writes. "Anti-ligature clothing should be used as a healing aid, not a dominating device - and always with, not against, the user."
This isn’t about removing these garments. It’s about improving them. The most helpful clothing protects both safety and dignity and supports healing, not fear. Comfort, coverage, and choice aren’t extras. They are the foundation of compassionate care.
A Shared Responsibility for Recovery
If you work in seclusion or secure care, this story may raise some important questions.
- Are your current garments supporting both safety and dignity?
- Do you have systems in place to replace damaged clothing quickly?
- Do your staff feel confident using these garments in a way that supports trauma-informed care?
We know resources are stretched. But even small changes like investing in replacements or improving staff training could make a huge difference on the life of those in your care.
The goal isn’t just to prevent harm. The goal is to support recovery. And that begins by listening, reflecting, and acting.
