This interview was originally published by Visible Voices , the magazine of disability culture.
‘The best design feels inevitable’, says the architect, Lisa McDanell. ‘When something is designed well, you almost stop noticing it. It just fits. It belongs. It supports the way you move through the world without demanding attention.’
The best design feels inevitable. When something is designed well, you almost stop noticing it.
And McDanell is right: there's a particular kind of object that broadcasts itself as “assistive” the moment you clap eyes on it. Perhaps it's a chrome rail bolted beside a bath; a plastic perching stool with rubberised feet; or even a fluorescent yellow ramp underscoring every entry and exit. There's no denying these objects fulfil their function efficiently — often providing a lifeline to disabled people. But they also disrupt the ambience around them, introducing the aesthetic vocabulary of dependency into spaces people have spent care making their own.
As the director of SALT Architects, a low-carbon architectural and design studio based in the UK, this contradiction puzzled McDanell. Why, she wondered, did supportive home products require aesthetic surrender?
While working on accessible homes and public buildings, McDanell encountered this problem repeatedly. Whenever it came to accessibility, the design quality just fell away. ‘There were plenty of functional solutions, but almost nothing that felt thoughtful, beautiful or emotionally considered.’
Accessibility is too often treated as ‘a compliance exercise’ rather than an opportunity for innovative design. ‘Architects will spend months debating materials, lighting, circulation, joinery details and door handles,’ explains McDanell. ‘Then at the end, supportive equipment gets added in almost apologetically, usually in white plastic or chrome, with very little thought about how it contributes to the overall experience of the space.’
Supportive equipment gets added in almost apologetically — with very little thought about how it contributes to the experience of the space.
But, around seven years ago, this conundrum became personal when her grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. ‘I watched her world become smaller. Not just because of the illness itself, but because the environments around her stopped supporting her properly,’ says McDanell. ‘I saw the falls, the anxiety around movement, the struggle with spaces…’
Her grandmother, Vivette — ‘strong-willed, glamorous, funny, outspoken, completely herself’ — always had a cultivated eye for interiors. It wasn't surprising, then, that she refused home adaptations entirely. Not just because of the stigma attached to them, but the fact most access products felt completely disconnected from her personal style. ‘She's incredibly house proud, so the idea of her home starting to feel medical was something she rejected.’
This, McDanell claims, was the springboard for Vivette , a design-led homeware brand bringing beautifully crafted access products into everyday spaces. Its first collection — a range of timber grab rails, inspired by the elegant handholds found on yachts — is architect-designed and occupational-therapist approved. ‘We wanted something quietly supportive that sits naturally alongside the rest of your furniture,’ says McDanell, stressing her desire to close the gap between accessibility and good design.
However, achieving that air of simplicity is anything but straightforward. The team spent months refining proportions, testing grip diameters and working with specialists on ergonomics. ‘There's a huge amount of technical work behind something that needs to feel effortless.’ Ask McDanell why the products work, and her answer is simple: collaboration.
Vivette's co-founder, Sophie Radcliffe, is a Senior Occupational Therapist, which means every idea is scrutinised from a design and clinical standpoint. ‘We think very differently. I'll often begin with a visual or spatial idea, and Sophie immediately stress-tests it against real-world use.’
Radcliffe interrogates every design decision: Does it work for people with a range of conditions? Is the grip comfortable? Does the positioning support natural movement? Are the details genuinely practical, or just decorative? Lived experience is essential to creating products that truly work, so here, the audience becomes an integral part of the design process. According to McDanell, this user engagement has been the most rewarding aspect of their work. The enthusiasm of the disability community, their generosity with feedback and eagerness for better-designed options, are all key to Vivette's success.
What started as a grab rail for my Granny became something much bigger.
‘What started as a grab rail for my Granny became something much bigger,’ says McDanell. Moving forward, Vivette's ambition is to build a full design-led accessible homeware brand that spans multiple rooms and forms of support. They are also developing rental-friendly products — including shower stools and freestanding supports — for people who cannot make permanent changes to their home. Through councils, social prescribing, grants and healthcare pathways, McDanell would love to see her products become publicly accessible too: ‘Everyone deserves the ability to choose supportive products that reflect their personality, regardless of budget or circumstance.’
Empathy is what sets Vivette apart from traditional assistive designware — which historically prioritises function over dignity. Modernism, for all its talk of universal design, often treats aging and disability like engineering challenges, problems to be solved. The result is products that are functional, yet somewhat clinical and impersonal. Vivette's ambition is to restore a sense of intimacy in design, creating objects that support people without losing sight of their humanity.
‘We want people to choose these products in the same way they'd choose a dining chair or a light fitting — they should feel proud to have them in their homes,’ McDanell says. ‘If our work helps even a few people feel safer, without feeling like they've lost part of themselves in the process, then we've done something worthwhile.’
Read more from Visible Voices at visible-voices.com . Learn more about the Vivette story or explore the collection .