Why I Created the OneEase Onesie: A Story From One Mum to Another

When people see the OneEase onesie today, they often assume it was born out of Lloyd’s medical needs. But the truth is, the seed for this design was planted long before feeding tubes, surgeries, seizures, and hospital wards became part of our everyday vocabulary.

It started when Lloyd was about three.

At that age, he had already outgrown every Bonds-style onesie and every other baby suit on the market. They all stopped at size 2 or 3, as if children who need functional suits simply stop needing them once toddlerhood ends. And the larger “onesies” available were really just pyjamas, with a single zip down the chest that ended awkwardly below the belly button.

I remember holding one of those long onesies and thinking, How am I supposed to dress my non-mobile child in this?Trying to manoeuvre stiff fabric and bend Lloyd’s legs through tiny openings felt like solving a puzzle no parent should have to solve, especially when you’re already exhausted and just trying to get through another day.

Then everything changed.
Lloyd became very unwell.
He stopped eating.
Tube feeding entered our lives.
And soon, we were planning for a PEG.

Suddenly clothing went from “hard” to “nearly impossible.”

I searched everywhere for something suitable, something that allowed easy access, kept him warm, protected his dignity, and worked with medical equipment. I scoured the internet for adaptive patterns and found… nothing. Not a single option that fit Lloyd’s age, size, medical needs, or comfort.

So I did what parents like us do when the world forgets our kids exist: I made my own solution.

With the help of a local seamstress, I started crafting a pattern from scratch. I didn’t know it then, but this would become the beginning of OneEase and eventually RareWear. We made four early versions, definitely not market-ready, but made with love and determination. These were purely for Lloyd to use after surgery.

When surgery day finally came, we dressed him in his homemade onesie. And the response?
Honestly, it still makes me emotional.

The surgeons loved the idea.
The nurses saw instantly how much easier it was to keep his PEG “dangler” secure.
They were able to check the healing site without stripping him down.
Feeds could be connected without making him cold, something that mattered so much because cold triggered Lloyd’s seizures.

In that moment, standing in the fog of recovery and emotions and relief, I realised something bigger:
This wasn’t just about Lloyd anymore.
There were other families facing the same struggles. Other kids being forced into clothes that weren’t made for them. Other parents trying to adapt, sew, cut holes into pyjamas, or make do because no one was creating what their children truly needed.

That’s when the idea shifted from “something to help Lloyd” to
something that could help so many families like ours.

The OneEase onesie grew out of frustration, necessity, creativity, and love. But most of all, it grew from the deep, fierce determination that every parent of a child with complex needs knows so well—the need to make life even just a little bit easier, a little bit kinder, a little bit more dignified for our kids.

Today, every OneEase onesie is a reminder of where this journey began:
a mum, a child, a sewing pattern scribbled on paper…
and a belief that our children deserve clothing designed with them, not in spite of them.

And to the families using OneEase now... thank you.
Thank you for trusting something that started with one little boy who outgrew every ordinary option.

Thank you for reminding me every day why RareWear exists.

We see you. We honour your kids. And we’ll keep creating, innovating, and fighting for better, together.