Category: Fayshun

Hello, gorgeous babies! Your fashion-challenged Avid Bruxist is back with another Fix. In fact, I’m one behind, so look for Part the Tenth shortly. (See parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8.)

First off, a blouse very similar to one I got in Fix 2, and it was just OK, you know?

To be on the safe side, I consulted Kate, as per uzh.

Me: “This shirt–does she do anything for me?”

Kate: “I think Patrick is voting no! Kind of hides your light under a bushel. And by light I mean your sweet rack and tiny waist. And by bushel I mean kinda cheap-looking, see-through fabric that looks like maternity wear. It’s a really good color, though! I tried to give you a compliment sandwich, but really it was a tostada of nope.”

Lol. Tostada of nope. Have I mentioned lately how Kate’s my favorite?

One thing I like about Stitch Fix is they pick things I’d never even glance at on the rack. For example, despite being re-educated about it, my brain still insists on discounting black and navy as a combo, when in fact it’s a totally legit option in the year of our Lord two thousand sixteen. Take this shirt that went over better with Kate than the tostada of nope:

These pants are a gordita of never. These pants are literally the worst pants in the world.

SLAPPED MY FACE AND CHALLENGED ME TO A DUEL LOLOLOLOL. If you don’t know Kate, I’m sorry.

But then there were some pants that did not brandish Wogdon pistols at me:

I’ll have to have them hemmed, but I thought they were very flattering. Kate agreed:

Now you know: if you run into Lysse Mollie straight-leg, FMO, face-slapping, duel-challenging sweatpant-slacks in a store, GIVE THEM THE ASS.

Moving on to accessories!

She asked if I liked it, and I was like, yeah, it’s fine, but exactly how often do I expect to be making a statement like that? I teach sixth grade. Decided to send it back.

That’s it for Fix 9! Dudettes, please use this link to try Stitch Fix for yourself because if you do that, they’ll give me a $25 credit, and I’ll keep posting these silly blogs about it. (I don’t get no monies for posting. No opinions have been swayed by monies.)

Stay tuned for future Fixes!

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Hello, smoochies! Your fashion-challenged Avid Bruxist is back with another Fix (see Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7), and SHE NEEDS YOUR HELP! Read on.

Good news/progress–I am accessorizing more these days. But when I saw this, I was unsure:

Who you gonna call? KAAAAAAAAAATE!

She told me to try it on with something I’d wear it with. Uh…

Then we had this little number:

My take:

Kate’s take was slightly more emphatic: “A lumberjack’s worth of no.”

I like blazers in theory, but rarely in practice, and this one:

Meh.

This shirt was very silky and comfy but had a heinous embroidery and lace combo about the neck and shoulders:

Kate said she couldn’t see the design in the picture, so I took a close-up:

I was like, “Ugly, right?”

See? It’s important to consult experts.

Then came the jeans (which I’d have to have hemmed, natch). I knew Kate would be anti-, because of the whiskers, but they were comfy, so I asked if there was anything else offensive about them:

She said they flared. I told her they were boot cut. She said, “Boot cut works if you’re wearing cowboy boots… Are you Marco Rubio?!”

I continued, “BUT I NEED JEANS.” Stomp stomp stomp.

Then she made me question my whole fayshun edjucayshun:

And I told her I wasn’t sure of anything anymore, that she had indoctrinated me against whiskers. She said they’re “no one’s friend” but that feeling good in something is more important than rules.

Is it though?! I need rules to cling to!

Vote, my lovers! Keep necklace? Keep jeans?

Also, use this link to try Stitch Fix for yourself because if you do that, they’ll give me a $25 credit, and I’ll keep posting these silly blogs about it. (I don’t get no monies for posting. No opinions have been swayed by monies.)

Stay tuned for future Fixes!

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Read my other stuff at Fat CrossFitter and Baby Happy Pants.

Hello, lovers. Your fashion-challenged Avid Bruxist is back with another Fix! (See Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5.)

Welp, I kept all five thangs this time. Don’t get too excited–I didn’t love all of them. In fact, I wasn’t in the Louvre with any of the pieces, but I likeded four.

First up:

Shirt, very comfy. Decent fit. (God, my post-nursing boobs are so smallllll. Waaaaah.) Pants, also good, though they bunched a little at the knees, and–granted, I don’t know wtf I’m talking about, but–these pants don’t feel like $88. Texture-wise, I mean. I’m not sure what $88 pants feel like, but I think it’s not this.

When I expressed concern to Kate about how the pants would hold up in the wash, this exchange followed:

P.S. Here’s the same outfit with the scarf from Fix #4:

Wore this outfit all day:

before realizing I might-should’ve tucked in the shirt:

But then I consulted with Kate about it, and she said, while she liked the proportions of the shirt tucked, actually “long and flowy is a thing now, both very cool-old Eileen Fisher style and cool-young breezy hipster.”

Just when I think I’ve got a thang learnt, they go and change it.

Then there was this:

Why did they send me a chandelier for a Baroque dollhouse?

Even with some of the victories I’ve had, I’m not under any delusions that I have style. But if I have a style, this necklace is the opposite of it.

However, as I said, I kep’ it because with the Buy 5 discount, it was cheaper to hang it in the receiving room of my miniature Palace of Versailles than send it back. Or maaaaybe I’ll send it as a Major Award to one of you shmoopies who uses this link to try Stitch Fix for yourself (because if you do that, they’ll give me a $25 credit), and you can put it in your Rococo Barbie dream house. [Ed. note: I don’t know the difference between Baroque and Rococo. I got a C in art history.]

Stay tuned for future Fixes!

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Hiyo, fashionistas! I’m back with another Fix! (See Parts 1, 2, 3, and 4.)

First, the Definitely-Like-Its:

Here’s my consult with Kate:

Me: Shirt looks boring in pic, but I like it. Pleats in front. Navy. Looks black in pic. Sleeves roll up and button if I’m in the mood. Necklace is kinda cray, but I think it’s a statement piece. RIGHT? DOES IT TIE THINGS TOGETHER?!

Kate: Hahaha, you knew exactly what I was gonna say! Totally dig the necklace.

SCORE ONE, ME.

Hey look, a dress that covers *almost* all of my thigh cellulite:

Kate’s only question about the dress was, “Does it keep ladies covered when you move?” I assured her it did, and she gave me the thumbs up.

Now, for the Others:

I really wasn’t sure what I thought about it, so I messaged Kate. She said she liked it but didn’t love it. She told me swishy isn’t really my “best silhouette” but that I “kill a pencil”*. I sent the swishy skirt back.

(*Oh yeah, I have a pencil skirt in my closet that Kate made me buy a couple years ago. Wonder if it fits my post-pregnancy midriff.)

Last item:

Here’s my exchange with Kate about them:

I’VE BECOME THE TEACHER.

ALL YOUR FAYSHUN RULES ARE BELONG TO ME.

Not really, of course, but it’s nice to know that, three years in, I’m finally learning how this shit works. Self high-five.

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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Read my other stuff at Fat CrossFitter and Baby Happy Pants.

Won’t bury the lede–kind of another swing and a miss on this one. Not because of the style. Mostly a size issue this time. For example:

Style was cute. Design, also cute. But when I lifted my arms, the elastic waist ended up tucked under my boobs. Probably because they sent me a Large Petite, and while I’m not Torso McGee, I don’t think I have an especially short trunk either.

Also, the neckline had this cool twisty feature, but the hooks-and-eyes wouldn’t stay latched. Not a huge deal–I could’ve fixed it with a quick squeeze from a pair of pliers–but at $58, I don’t think I should have to do repairs right off the bat.

Another size casualty:

I loved this shirt and would’ve kept it. Look at the elbow patches! Patchy elbows! How professorial!

But it fit like a wetsuit.

And then with the opposite problem:

This sweater made me look like a fat potato.

Fortunately, two items in the Fix were not really size-specific. First:

I wasn’t sure about the scarf. I thought I liked it, but sometimes I don’t know what I like, so I ask Kate if I like it. Turns out, I like it.

Lastly, a purse because my stuff bucket‘s handles were falling apart:

Truth be told, it’s not perfect. First, I prefer silver accents to gold. Second, it’s got tassles, and tassles make me feel weird. And finally, the makeup pouch is in the flap, so the zipper for it is upside-down. Not ideal for a mombag–how’m I gonna grab my Dr. Pepper chapstick one-handed?!

But I like the style, mostly, and the color is gorgeous (navy, if you can’t tell from the pic), and well shit, I just didn’t want to go another month without a stuff bucket.

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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Read my other stuff at Fat CrossFitter and Baby Happy Pants.

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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Read my other stuff at Fat CrossFitter and Baby Happy Pants.

Weird. Found myself actually kinda looking forward to receiving my second shipment from Stitch Fix. Who is I, and what even where happening? Hold me. I’m cold.

But before we get into that, let’s talk about me trying to Make Fashion and achieving a victory, a semi-victory, and a decided non-victory. First the victory:

I sent this picture to Kate. “How am I doing? Too much grey?” I asked.

She said, “You’re doing it!” and went on to praise the “pop of color” and “elongated foot line” of my shoesies. Sure! I meant to do that! Fayshun!

The flats were $$$$, and they still rendered my feet meaty nubs, but I’m going to keep wearing them because $$$$.

The semi-victory:

To my credit, I knew it didn’t work. I just couldn’t articulate why. (I mean, aside from the flip-flops–I had to give my feet a day off to regrow their epidermis.) Kate said the shirt’s elastic waist doesn’t do me any favors–“hits and blouses at the wrong spot”–and the tank throws off the proportions even further. I don’t know what any of that means, but she does, and that’s what’s important here.

To the Fix!:

This blouse has weird shoulders, but I don’t own much print stuff, so I kept it. The pants are super comfy, and unlike the last Fix’s, they’ve held up in the wash. I still think my lower half looks like an ice cream cone in skinny pants, but maybe the frozen dessert treat look is fashionable?

These flats too left red burny spots on my feet, but I like ’em. Gonna make ’em like me, if I have to use crutches to do it.

This filmy tunic is an awful lot like another filmy tunic I bought awhile back on oldnavy.com clearance, and both are meh. I would’ve returned it and the earrings in the next photo, except with the Buy Five discount it would’ve saved me only eight bucks. I’ll find somebody who wants the shirt.

Last thing:

Kate: “Daaaaaamn, son! Put on some sexy times shoes and bring allllll the boys to the yard!”

I guess what she’s saying is that my Tom’s flats won’t cut it here, but I feel like I should get points for wearing something other than flip-flops.

As a general rule, I don’t wear dresses. The chubrub is real and painful, even when I lube up my inner thighs and lube ’em up good, but I wore spandex shorts under this, and they precluded any fires in my nether regions.

Plus, one of my (male) sixth graders said, sort of matter-of-factly, “I thought you were going to a royal ball when I saw you in that dress.”

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. Thanks to the readers who already did this! You contributed to the bringing of boys to the yard!

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First, my style guru had the audacity to move to D.C. two years ago to be with the love of her life. Then came the babies, and I’m not saying I had kids specifically so I’d have an excuse never to go clothes shopping, but it’s a side benefit, for sure.

Lo, it seemed that my desire to be fashionable without putting in any effort was a pipe dream. I was regressing to my daily Old Navy t-shirt habit. Frumpmom was triumphing.

But then women I knew kept posting online about Stitch Fix, a web-based service that shops for you and sends the clothes to your house, and I was all, “GIVEITTOMEIWANTIT.”

I filled in the profile, outlining my style (ha ha, as if), describing my body type (ass so fat that you could see it from the front), and specifying what I wanted/needed for my wardrobe (less special occasion wear, more work clothes).

A crisp package arrived a few weeks later. That weekend, Kate, the aforementioned guru, was visiting from Our Nation’s Capital. “Kate,” I said, and gestured to the box.

“Stitch Fix!” she said.

“Mm-hm,” I said. “Came a couple days ago.”

“You haven’t opened it yet?!”

Sigh. I wish I were a person who delighted in new garb, but it still feels like a chore, and OH MY GOD, I’M AN INSUFFERABLE CITIZEN OF THE FIRST WORLD SORRY SORRY SORRY.

Kate and I sifted through the stuff together to see what I should keep and what I should send back.

First up, a t-shirt, more or less. Not t-shirt material–more knit?–and, like, forty-something dollars, but pretty much a t-shirt.

I liked the color and thought it fit OK, but Kate’s lip curled. “Mullet-hem,” she said.

“Is that bad?” I asked. She said she just didn’t, as a style, love it, and I’ll admit business-in-the-front-party-in-the-back is not the most flattering for my body type.

So why did I keep it? Read on.

[Side note: It’s not lost on me that those jeans suck. They’re too long and just blah, but until the fine folks at Stitch Fix send me some denim, I shall wear them, and you can’t stop me.]

Next up, this dress from Collective Concepts:

Considering my next date night is… lemme check… the 12th of Never, I decided to wear the dress to Meet the Teacher.

My colleagues were like, “Whoa! You clean up nice!” and I did feel good. I wore my wedge heels for an hour and a half without a medical emergency; I finally put to use the statement belt I bought more than two years ago; and I even put on makeup.

I give myself an A+ for effort and some sort of non-failing grade for execution.

Moving along. The stylist really tried with these stretchy petite Margaret M dress pants.

And they’re definitely comfy, but as you can see, they give me elephant knees. Also, since they were too long for capris and too short for actual pants, and who has time to go to the tailor?, I had to DIY a hem job.

Also, after one washing, they were significantly faded. Like, they look like old pants now. They were the most expensive thing in the lot! $98! That’s so many of the dollars! Thumbs down.

[Note: Again, I’m not stupid–I know that utilitarian flip-flops are not the footwear of choice for this outfit, but I can’t wear heels all day, and I have yet to find a pair of flats that doesn’t scrape all the skin off my feet. Suggestions welcome.]

The last two items were this lace-front tank from Paper Moon and Kara hammered coin silver necklace. The shirt has a sheer back (cami required) with a silver zipper. I. love. it.

The necklace is fine (I’m ACCESSORIZING!), but $34?!

In fact, all the items seemed pricey to me, but that’s probably ’cause I wear Gap jeans and Old Navy t-shirts 90% of the time.

I kept the whole shebang because Stitch Fix gives you a 25% discount if you take all five things, and I liked each item just enough to justify 75% of its cost.

But this model of purchasing is unlikely to be sustainable because the bill came to over $200, and that’s a lot to be spending on clothes every month. Or maybe it’s not? How much do you people budget for clothes?

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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Read my other stuff at Fat CrossFitter and Baby Happy Pants.