Last time I spoke with the fine Stitchers at StitchFix, I told them I wasn’t going to be going anywhere for like a year, so be sure to send me shit I can lounge around in. Man, did they deliver. Without further ado, let’s look at my box.
Let’s look at my package.
Harrr–oh, I give up.
First of all, you’ve no idea how hard it is to take a full-body photo of yourself. At no time do I care that I live alone except during StitchFix photographing time, or whenever there’s a cat on me and I want more coffee. I just noticed Milhous having a midday smackerel back there, oblivious to my struggle.
What I was TRYINA show you were these workout pants, which I note already have a dog hair on them, and next time I’m getting one of those hairless dogs. Those are so … attractive. I had asked for workout pants because I have like three pair and only one is decent. The other is ripped and the other has paint on it.
I know someone’s gonna say, OH MY GOD IT COSTS, but look up workout leggings, man.
Okay, next I tried to show you a t-shirt that has buttons up the back, and I pretty much went all over the house to photograph them, and as you know everywhere I walk Edsel follows me like I’m a cave man and he’s my tribe, and say, June, how did your history of man classes go? Hey, June, were they even called history of man or did you just invent a class?
Here’s one nice attempt, and won’t you enjoy my sports bra? I had m’trainer.
See? Buttons. I used to date this one guy and whenever I said, “So…” he’d say, “Buttons.”
We broke up.
Finally, I placed the phone in my cupboard, propped it up with ridiculous fragile china items, GOT A STEPLADDER (I never knew my real ladder) and stood on it, resulting in one goddamn halfway okay photo of the damn t-shirt.
We move on now to stripes. One test I give men online is to ask them what their favorite Bill Murray movie is. If they say Stripes or Caddyshack, I know Ima hate them. If they say that one pretentious movie with Gwyneth Paltrow I would probably like them okay.
Lost in Translation? There’s m’soulmate.
Much like Stripes the movie didn’t do much for me, I don’t think this shirt is doing me any favors.
Not to be short with you, but they sent me shorts. I haven’t worn shorts since I turned 40, as I saw on Oprah or Dr. Phil or some show that you shouldn’t. But here I am considering shorts a month from my 55th bday.
And for the long finish, they sent me a dark-blue maxidress. To wear at my maxi pad. What say you? (I welcome you to once again enjoy my sports bra.)
I look forward to your many votes and comments about how Marshall’s is cheaper.