IN THE pub, on a night out not too long after she had her prosthetics fitted, Stacy Paris was asked by a stranger if “those things on her legs” were heavy to wear. “I whipped one off, handed it to him and said: 'I dunno, are they?'” she says, smiling mischievously at the memory. “He was a bit taken aback. But I think it’s better to be upbeat about these things. I’d rather people were curious and asked, than simply sat and stared.”

Paris has had both legs amputated below the knee, following a brutal battle with the flesh-eating bug necrotising fasciitis. The 30-year-old molecular biology student has now taken on a fight of a different kind: she is backing the nationwide campaign orchestrated by London-based Models of Diversity who argue models used by agencies should be more representative of the population.

“According to the latest figures, one in six people in Britain has a disability. But where are all the disabled models?” she says. “When I was starting out, I had nobody to look up to. Having a disability should not exclude you from the industry.”

There are few examples of disabled models taking to the catwalk – last year, for instance, Jillian Mercado, who has muscular dystrophy, was signed to IMG Models (the same agency as supermodel Gisele Bundchen).

Madeline Stuart, an 18-year-old Australian who has Down’s syndrome, was announced as the face of cosmetics brand GlossiGirl and actor Jamie Brewer, who also has Down’s, modelled for American designer Carrie Hammer. Last June, the Breaking Bad actor RJ Mitte – who has cerebral palsy and has starred in a Gap campaign – appeared on the catwalk for Vivienne Westwood.

Michael O’Brien, director of leading Scottish agency the Model Team, says: “I would not say no to representing a disabled model – we treat all applicants on an individual basis. I think it is a question of demand, though, from clients. I’ve worked in Scotland for 10 years and we have never had any enquiries from anyone looking for a disabled model.

“But when you look at the film and television industries, disabled actors are well-represented, so perhaps this is a move forward that is just waiting to happen, and we applaud that.”

The Models of Diversity campaign is calling for the Government to change employment laws to force agencies to represent one disabled model for every five able-bodied models. “The idea of quotas is a difficult one,” adds O’Brien. “It begins to sound like tokenism. This is a tough industry to break into, whoever you are.”

Paris took up modelling last year, a few months after her second amputation. So far, she has worked with grass-roots companies around her hometown of Bridge of Allan – and she will shortly appear on The Herald’s fashion pages.

Herald fashion editor Eva Arrighi says: "Fashion with its ability to disturb the status quo might be the best place to challenge ideas surrounding disability. After all it was the late Alexander McQueen who put Aimee Mullins, the American model, runner and actor, on the cover of Dazed & Confused wearing her carbon-fibre running blades when he guest edited their fashion issue in 1998.

"That issue, which also featured legless dancer David Toole, and McQueen's subsequent booking of Aimee to walk in his catwalk show raised questions of normality, beauty and ability. This made a huge impression on me.

"In Mullins' talk, My 12 Pairs of Legs, at a Ted Conference, she described how 'a prosthetic limb can stand as a symbol so that people society once considered to be disabled can become the architects of their own identities'."

Seven years ago, Paris was on holiday in the south of France when she developed a pain in her foot. “It just got worse and worse, so I had to give in and go to hospital,” she says. “They thought it was some kind of infection but they did lots of tests and X-rays and they discovered the bones in my foot had been almost completely destroyed.

“Nobody could explain it – there was no wound, I hadn’t injured myself. It just came out of the blue.”

She came home but almost immediately ended up back in Stirling Royal Infirmary. “This time, I became seriously ill, and the doctors diagnosed necrotising fasciitis,” she says. “I also had a bone-eating bug, so it was a double whammy. I was in intensive care for six days and nearly died.”

Over the next few years, Paris was in and out of hospital as the disease attacked her feet and legs. “I had bits and pieces amputated along the way – a toe here, a toe there,” she says, her cheerful tone not quite masking the pain of the memories. “Eventually, I had to have the whole leg below the knee taken off. When it started in the other leg, I knew I didn't want to wait as long for the amputation."

She is matter of fact about the decision. “I made my peace with the amputations fairly quickly," she nods. "I just hated being in hospital all the time. I was bored, and hated being sick.”

The endless hospital visits, however, inspired her to go back to university. “When I left school I didn’t really know what I wanted to do – I flitted in and out of jobs, became a pub singer, never made up my mind,” she says. “Before I got ill, I thought I had all the time in the world. I thought I could do anything, live my life the way I wanted, just be young and enjoy myself.”

She pauses. “After the first amputation, I realised things had changed for me. Listening to the medical staff, trying to decipher what the doctors were talking about, sparked an interest in medicine. So I decided to go to university and get a degree and ultimately, I want to do my PhD.”

Paris is now in her second year of a molecular biology degree at Glasgow University. “I knew I wanted to walk in on my first day, so I was absolutely determined to be up and about on my prosthetics for then,” she says firmly. “Usually it can take a few months for people to get used to them, but I did it in three weeks. I was in pain, but there was no way I wasn’t going to do it.

“I don’t think the doctors quite know what to do with me. I’ve always been very stubborn, I don’t appreciate being told I can’t do something. So the whole time they were saying to me, ‘You won’t be able to walk again, you won’t be able to go to uni,' all I could think was – watch me.”

Paris is now free of the disease but, she explains, there is a chance it could recur. “It might come back in my other limbs, and of course, that thought is there somewhere in my head, in the back of my mind,” she says, slowly. “But I don’t worry about it. I’m a positive person. I get that from my mum, who has been such a rock.”

Paris lives with her mother Paula and brother Graeme, but she is also close to her father, stepmother and stepsister. “Something like this affects the whole family,” she says. “Everyone has really supported me. But my mum has been a hero. She was so calm when I was in hospital, going through the amputations, that it kept me calm too.”

She pauses. “I’m not superhuman, of course – there are days when I get down, or upset. But it only takes a moment, and then I get back up again.”

Combining her studies with spreading the word about the Models of Diversity campaign is hard work, but she is passionate about the cause. “Raising awareness of the campaign has put me in touch with other amputees on social media, and one mum got in touch about her daughter, who had both feet amputated,” she says. “She said the little girl’s face just lit up when she saw my picture. That’s why I’m doing this. Young girls need to see people like them up there on the catwalks and the television screens.

“We’re not saying, 'Give us all work.' We are saying, 'Represent us, and give us a chance.'

“I never planned for my life to turn out this way, but now that I’m here, I’m ready to break boundaries. I want to be that role model I couldn’t find. I want to be a game-changer.” n

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