Your fashion-challenged Avid Bruxist, she is back with another Fix! Actually two–I’m behind schedj.
My internet was out when I got the first Fix, so I had to throw it back to a simpler time. I took pix on my computer, hitched the ox to my covered wagon, and traversed the treacherous 1/2 mile to Kate’s house. How did the pioners do it?!
I knew these pants had problems, namely that they were slightly too long and the seam on the bottom of the pocket hits at exactly the widest part of my saddlebags.
But they are soft as puddin’, and I loooooove the color, and look how great they make my butt look:
So Kate’s “hmm… yeah… big pockets” was considered and rejected. Keeper.
But then
ugh. Also too long, but by a mile–hello, elephant legs–and
UGH, the distance between my back and that waistband! I could fit a whole package of Oreos in there!
Oh dang, maybe I should’ve kept them.
Then there was this sweater, which fit pretty well.
Kate’s problem was that it whiffed of a long-blouse-under-a-tight-sweater ensemble from long about ’98, but that was not an issue for me because I LOVED THAT LOOK. Keeper.
The next item was an automatic no because I could barely get it over my bewbs, but even if it had fit, Kate’s quote was
“Oh, are you going to a Ren faire? What is happening?! The fly away and the sheer and the boob slings and the ruffles and is that a tie?!”
It was, dear reader. It was a tie.
In sum, there were too many design elements going on.
Then there was… whatever this was.
I recoiled at the 90s rental beach condo upholstery pattern, but there was something else Kate couldn’t put her finger on. Turns out, it was that I don’t know how to put on clothes. It was supposed to be like this:
Kate and I are in agreement about the cold shoulder lewk–fart noise–so wearing it as the designer intended didn’t help.
So that was the first Fix. I wear the red pants alllllll the time and the sweater enough to make it worthwhile.
Moving on to the second Fix. My internet was back up, so I could use textual messaging like a normal person.
It was similar to a Gap blouse I bought a million years ago on a shopping trip with Kate. (Kind of hard to see, but it’s the second to last picture in Fayshun! Amy Goes Rogue and It Doesn’t Go That Well.) I didn’t like this one as much as the old one, but because of my laundry philosophy (“Everything is machine washable if you just believe”), the old one was pilling and faded.
Kate said this new shirt worked, so there you go. Also working for Kate despite my display of arm cellulite:
Wrap does my shape right, v-neck always works for me, and skirt hits the knee at that mythical “right spot” apparently.
Then oh my goodness. What even. Woe. WOE.
Kate and I agreed. Four thumbs down.
Don’t worry, reader–I too had to google peplum.
In short, no, no compelling reason.
Last time I clicked the “my stylist didn’t listen to me” button, they sent me a message that made me think they put her out the airlock, so I decided to stay mum this time.
Do I want to continue despite this service’s imperfections? I do. I hate shopping that much. I may in the near future switch to a plus-size service like Dia&Co because I seem to be getting more and more plus-sized. Might have something to do with the fact that I eat like a high school athlete and exercise 3/4-heartedly once a week.
If you want to try Stitch Fix for yourself, please use this link. They’ll give me a $25 credit, and I’ll keep writing these silly blogs.
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