Your fashion-challenged Avid Bruxist! She is back with another Fix! (Read Part 17 here, and follow the links for previous posts.)
Look at me, mixing and matching slate pants from this Fix with a shirt and scarf from previous ones. I’m making outfits, y’all! (Checked in with Kate, as always.)
They look like they bunch at the knees, but when I tuck them appropriately–who has time for hemming?–they’re all right. Anyway, Kate likey.
As a person who hates shopping very much, I really appreciate the service that Stitch Fix provides, but every so often, they send me the emperor’s new clothes.
They then tried to get me to buy another infinity scarf, and I was tempted, but I think the number of infinity scarves a person needs is finite.
The next item… I don’t even know, y’all. It was so bad. Felt like it was made of re-purposed grocery bags, and poorly constructed.
I’ve never watched Project Runway, but yeah, that sounds right.
BONUS: Shoe Update!
Remember the Grecian sandals in the top left? They have held up well. My legs do ache a bit at the end of the day, but my feet sing happy songs. If I could wear them all the time, I would. Alas, it’s winter, and even here in the Piedmont of North Carolina, exposed toesies get frosty.
The Clarks, unfortunately, are pieces of shite. When I first got them, they were so dreamy that I got online to see if I could find them in other colors, and what popped up were a million 1-star reviews that said things like, “These fell apart almost immediately.” Sure enough, I looked down at my happy feet and noticed a split in the cork, and they’ve just consistently broken in pieces. Sad, right? The Clarks brand, if I’m not mistaken, used to mean quality. What happened?
[TANGENT STORY: I went to college with this British dude, and one time my roommate asked him what his parents did, and he said, “My father’s a shoemaker.” For a long time, we imagined a lanky old cobbler in a drafty workshop. Nope, dude’s last name was Clark. His family were fafillionaires. I wonder if they’re still swimming in money now that they’re putting out sub-par sandals.]
As for the Lucky brand leopard-print flats, yeah, they’re not the world’s greatest. As I said, it’s not footmurder exactly, and I can wear them all day, but it’s because I’ve developed a tolerance, not because they feel good.
They are more comfortable than these Madden Girls I purchased:
They’re stiff–you can see the rubby spot on my big toe knuckle. And besides that, they’re too big. Even when I make fists with my toes, they clack on the floor with every step. Maybe I can stick summa them heel grippies inside.
In related news, I’m 41 years old and still buy the wrong size shoes 72% of the time. I swear it’s like I’m wearing entirely different feet when I walk into a shoe store. I bought three pairs of sneakers recently, and not one of them fits right.
MORE BONUS CONTENT:
One of my readers is a Lularoe distributor and offered to send me some free stuff. I took her up on it, and here’s my honest assessment.
As they claim, the leggings are indeed buttery. Maybe they look all right?
Don’t really care because they’re made of sex and pudding.
The other stuff… it just didn’t work, unfortunately. Couldn’t put my finger on the problem exactly. Like this dress–close but no cigar. I’d give the colors a high-five for sure, but…
Maybe it’s the wide stripe on my wide hips? Would it have been better with narrow stripes? Or vertical stripes? Hard sayin, not knowin.
And this combo:
The potential cuteness was there. I feel like it’d look good on someone. But I just felt dumpy.
Anywhoodle, if you have free clothes you want me to review, I’ll happily do it. And if you want some puddingsex leggings for yourself (or try these outfits!–you might be the someone they look good on!), definitely get in touch with Jessica McQuaig. She was super nice and easy to work with.
Want to try Stitch Fix for yourself? Please use this link. If you do that, they’ll give me a $25 credit, and I’ll keep writing these silly fayshun blogs.
Stay tuned for future Fixes!