This summer, I discovered StitchFix. I read a bunch of reviews other bloggers had published before deciding that I wanted to sign up. And so far—it’s awesome. My third box should arrive today, and since I’m obviously really excited about it, here’s StitchFix—as represented by GIFs. (I’m beginning to think writing with GIFs is like setting something to music. It makes everything more awesome. Is it just me? Because we all know how I feel about photo montages. Pass the tissues. ANYWAY.)
- First, you go to the StitchFix website and put in a bunch of information. I find it is easy to be honest about which types of clothes you like and not as easy to tell them your actual sizes. Basically, you try to convince them of this:
- Then you pick a date for your box to arrive and you wait.
- Then suddenly the box is on your doorstep and you go get it.
- Then there is this moment where you do everything you can to slow down and not open the box. Isn’t the mystery of what’s in there half the fun? If I open the box, it’ll be over. This lasts for about 30 seconds.
- Once you’ve opened the box and laid out all your lovely new clothing options, you start to try them on at warp speed, which increases especially if something fits. It’s like the first thing fit, WHAT IF THEY ALL DO, ohmygoodness why isn’t shopping in a real store like this?! Because let’s be real, half the time I’ll gather up some clothes to try on and then decide not to because it’s too much of a hassle.
- Then you take photos of all the clothes and send them to all your friends, who are obviously your best clothing consultants. My BFF Dienesa is one of mine; she has been known to veto outfits I am proud of. But only out of love concern that people will laugh at which colors I think match. The fewer responses like this, the better:
- The only sort-of bummer thing about StitchFix is that you have to make quick decisions. Once you get the box, you have to return items you don’t want within three days or else you have to keep (and pay for) the whole box. Once I’ve tried everything on, my brain switches to intense decision-making mode to decide what I love vs. what I can afford and whether those two ever overlap.
- Then you decide, and send the rest back, and the next day you wear your new clothes. And you strut around all like: