In which I am badly dressed...

Recently I joined a service called Stitch Fix. They purport to be a personal shopping and styling service for regular women. I joined because a friend of mine who is a web designer joined them, and she said she felt that their web site was well-designed and that their Style Profile method was really good. To be fair, she had not received anything from them, and I don't think I saw what she eventually got from them.

When I was filling out the profile, what really stuck out to me was how vague it was. I could look at a picture of a bunch of clothes like you might see someone post on Polyvore, and I could say I liked most of it, some of it, or none of it.

For example, this is the first panel on the Style Profile:

 I said I liked "some of it." What I mean by that is, "Nice jacket, nice boots. Cute red flats and spectator flats. I don't wear Oxford shirts because my breasts make me look like a schooner under full sail if the shirt is big enough to stay buttoned, so no thank you. The striped thing, is that a dress or a blouse, because my answer to that depends on which one it is? And what the living fuck is going on with that yellow skirt, and I don't like the idea of red jeans at all. The polka dotted thing probably looks like a maternity top on a body, so no."

 On the whole, I found the other panels even more puzzling. (Yes, I'm bad at Girl Science. Why would I be doing this if I were good at this crap?)

The Final Comments field was woefully inadequate space-wise to tell some poor stylist what they need to know about what I won't wear. I said some things about how hard it is to fit blouses for me (big enough in front is sloppy on the sides), and I said no pink and no capris. I tried to keep an open mind.

Conspicuously missing from the profile questions: Measurements. They asked for weight, height, and bra size, but not the basic measurements that show how things proportion on a person. I guess that would have made too much sense.They ask for sizes, but sizes are pretty meaningless these days. I mean, I have jeans that fit that are sizes 6-10. I try on size 8 dresses that are too tight but the size 10 is too loose or too long and the size 12 has armholes that you can see my entire body through. I never know what it's going to be, so I usually go to the dressing room with three sizes minimum.

There was also nowhere to upload a picture of myself in clothes I actually like, although there was a place to put a link to a Pinterest board, which I did. I have a style board on Pinterest, and it's full of rich colors and shapes that tend to drape well on me, as well as some things that are just weird coolness. It's on the small side because when I tried to find more stuff to put on it, I gave up. It's hard to find stuff I like by searching under "Fashion."

Armed with this information, such as it was, this is what the stylist picked out for me:

That's one blouse, two things that I think are sort of dresses, and a very, very, very long dress. There's also a pair of earrings.

Let's begin with the yellow and grey maxi dress, shall we? The notes on it said that it could be dressed up or down, and to wear it alone or with a cardigan.

 

It was hard to get a picture of the full awful glory of this thing. To start with, it's long. Really, really long. Like, it brushes the floor without shoes on, and it's not the kind of dress that I'm going to wear high heels with. I put on the profile that I am 5' 4" tall, so there isn't much excuse for this. The top is huge and draggy and would require a cami to hide my bra because it's not low-cut so much as just too damned big.

Without the belt, it looks like a sack. With the belt, it looks like I've joined some kind of monastic order that requires me to wear a belted sack.

Also, pastel yellow? With grey? I associate these colors with overcooked hard boiled eggs, but not with clothes.

This dress would look good on a large-framed blonde who is closing in on six feet tall. That wouldn't be me. In a tolerable color and in a size that actually fit me, I'd consider wearing this, but as is, it's going back in the bag.


Next up is the black and white dress. Before I put this thing on, I actually had some hopes for it. I own a similar item that I bought from Coldwater Creek this spring that looks really good on me.

This, however, I will pass on. It's baggy and really unflattering. In order to get it close enough around my waist to make it sort of fit, I end up with it bagging all over, and the lining was hanging out in the back.

I had high hopes for it because it was fully lined and if it fit I could put a black jacket over it for work, too. As it is? Back in the bag. 

Next, we go to the grey blouse. This also should have been something like a good idea. A nice shell like this can go under a suit and look both professional and feminine. The problem is, this thing is actually a tunic-type blouse despite the fact that it is transparent. It's also huge.

It's essentially a silvery-grey bag made out of really nice, slightly sparkly silk. Why on earth anyone would want to make a bag out of such nice fabric is anyone's guess. Even if I'd gone to the trouble to iron it before trying it on, it would not have changed the fact that my bra is clearly visible from the side. There is way too much of my body visible with this way-too-enormous blouse. I blame bad design. I'm sick and tired of the only blouses that fit me in front being sized for someone of twice my weight. Back in the bag with this, too.

And finally, we come to the Awful Tunic of Awfulness. Steve looked at this as I took it out of the box and said, "I had no idea that things like that were possible."

It's supposed to be a tunic. On me, it looks like a circus tent being used as a muumuu after someone has already used it as a painter's dropcloth. I can't even imagine what the designer was thinking putting the wide white collar thing on it, either.I look at the picture and my brain adds a pair of fuzzy slippers underneath it. It looks like something a trailer park granny would wear to Walmart after midnight because she is out of cat food. Definitely back in the bag.

The earrings, to be fair, are relatively inoffensive except that they're really, really heavy. I'm not going to pay $35 for something that's going to stretch out my ears.

And that's it. That's what I got from Personal Stylist kind of person. I'm going to give this one more shot, referring the stylist to both my Pinterest page and to this blog entry (so she at least knows what I freaking look like and why this stuff didn't work), but if the next shipment is this disappointing I'll be canceling the service. I can dress myself in ill-fitting clothes that don't flatter me all by myself for much less than the asking price was on this stuff.