My third Fix arrived, and I would’ve been happy, except I had worn my Frye flats all day, so my pinkie toes were balls o’ burnin’ flame. (Seriously, what do I do about this? I sprinkled anti-chafing powder on my feet about five times throughout the day. Am I wearing the wrong size or something? Size 7s commit foot-murder on me, but I flop around in 7 1/2s like an 8-year-old who’s raided her mom’s closet. I’m committed to finding something I can wear other than flip-flops, but Jesus.)
I opened the box and tore apart the tissue paper. (One thing I’ll say for Stitch Fix is they do it up with the packaging—make it feel like an event.) First thing out of the stack was this little number:
I heard a tiny tick as I lifted it up. On the tile by my feet was one of those brass-looking “buttons”. I figured it was just an extra, you know, like they put in a tiny ziploc on the tag, so you can sew the spare on if one comes off. Because you’re definitely a seamstress.
WHY DO THEY EVEN DO THAT? Everybody knows you’re not gonna sew that button on. Everybody knows you’re gonna put it in a drawer until you move, and then it’ll go in a box labeled Random Crap, which you’ll shove into the attic at your next place, thinking you’ll get back to it at some point. But Some Point never comes. In fact, you move that box six more times over the years, and then when you break your hip, and your ungrateful kids move you to a nursing home, and they dig through six Random Crap boxes looking for swag, they wonder why the fuck you kept an assortment of random buttons and those magnets for ambulance-chasing lawyers that you peel off phone books before you recycle them.
Well, turns out it wasn’t a spare button. It was one of the buttons from the sleeve, and two more of them fell off as I was trying on the shirt. They weren’t sewn on, just pasted, and clearly not that well.
Though the fit didn’t do anything for me—kinda made me look pregnant—I liked the print and maybe would’ve kept it, but hell if I’m gonna hot-glue-gun buttons onto a brand new shirt. Not my job. It went back.
Between the fading pants of the first Fix, and this button-sloughing top, I’m a bit concerned about the quality of items that Stitch Fix selects.
Next up, more skinny pants:
I liked the chocolate color, but these pants were really clingy. I know, they’re skinny jeans—they’re supposed to cling—but they didn’t do anything for my shape. No lifting or supporting in key areas. The look was less slim fit and more defective sausage casing. Sent ’em back.
Moving along:
This filmy tank did not flatter—kinda made me look pregnant. And besides, I already own a hot pink tank top that kinda makes me look pregnant. Bye bye.
One of the nice features of Stitch Fix is you can write notes to your stylists, so last time I had written something like:
My friend Kate, who knows about these things, says I should try to incorporate some ‘statement jewelry’. Not that I know what that means, but she has a pair of earrings that are 2-inch white owls, so maybe that? I don’t do bracelets but can work on wearing earrings, necklaces, barrettes, scarves, and belts.
And they sent me these:
To their credit, they probably wouldn’t have made me look pregnant, but they’re not statement jewelry. They’re, at best, crappy mall kiosk jewelry. Back they went.
Was it to be a complete bust?! Was I going to send the whole enchilada back?!
No, once again, a dress came to the rescue:
Goddammit with the dresses though. Would my poor, poor inner thighs survive?
WELL, on the recommendation of a couple readers, I had ordered three pairs of Bandelettes—lacy, garter-like whoozeewhatsits—that are supposed to preclude chafing… and they did! Rubbery strips on the inside keep them in place, so though the lace pilled a bit, I ended the day with nary a hot spot. (And if my thighs weren’t 28″ in circumference and riddled with cellulite, they’d probably be sexy.)
And for #ThrowbackThursday: The stuff bucket I purchased 20 months ago is dying a painful death. Or at least the handles are.
I wonder if Stitch Fix does purses…
Stay tuned for future Fixes!
And if you want to try Stitch Fix yourself, please use this link because they’ll give me a $25 credit, and in return I’ll give you an internet high-five or smooch, your choice.
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