Review: Stitch Fix

Twelve years of rocking the Catholic school uniform and this grown-up girl is taking back her wardrobe. Every Sunday I glance at the 5-day forecast and pick out my outfits for the workweek. It's a task I enjoy; it feels creative and curatorial. I have a penchant for putting unlikely pieces together in my outfit selections. Y'all know how I love my gig styling for Keaton Row. (Click the button on the right sidebar if you want a custom styled lookbook just for you, beauty!). Sometimes a gal wants someone to style her, though. Sometimes she wants to be Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman" after the Rodeo Retail Snobbers make a Big Mistake. Huge.

Enter: Stitch Fix. On the remote chance you're not already familiar, here's my review of the process. My blog idol Jami Nato pointed me to this service a few months ago. I filled out the very thorough survey which makes a gal think about all the decisions and non-decisions she makes re: purchasing clothes.

Once you fill out the survey/profile thing, you input your credit card info. The service itself costs $20, but you can put that styling fee toward the purchase of the curated clothes sent your way, at a time that you designate. Brilliant, eh?

I scheduled a fix for my birthday week because, oh hai birthday cake. Maybe if I buy some new clothes I won't eat you all. The box arrived promptly and I was so excited because how often does a box arrive that we picked out for ourselves but that is full of surprise? Oh, the 12th of never, right?

The box's contents included the following:

Separate #1: white shirtdress $28 - although not petite, it is 100% cotton which is my preference. Separate #2: Red skinny pants $68 - not petite but I would wear these with boots anyways. Verdict: KEEPING 'EM.

Separate #3: Heart sweater - $68. The fact that this struck me as something I would have begged my mom to buy me in 1986 so I could wear it to a birthday party at the rollerskating rink made me decide, probably not. When I put this sweater on, it was snug in all the wrong places. Verdict: Sending it back.

Separate #4: Flowy skirt $68- this skirt is dry clean only which is not my preference but the fit was excellent and the piece is unique.

Verdict: Keeping it.

Item #5: My fix also contained these sweet earrings - $28. I have no need for earrings (and you can specify your needs on your survey) but I am always on the lookout for unique gifts for the lady relatives in my life. Verdict: Sending 'em back.

Clients of Stitch Fix get 3 days to try on and decide on what to keep, what to send back with no penalty. After 3 days, I believe anything you keep, you buy. All in all, I think this is a huge merit of the service. I always feel bad that I'm cutting into someone's commission when I buy something to take home and try on at regular retail establishments. Or I hem and haw for too long about the price. Stitch Fix forces you to try and decide swiftly, which is good for a deliberative gal like self.

Shipping of all items is free, which is a win-win. Actually, it's probably more of a win for the client.

And to our right is the original Stitch Fixer, Baby Girl, the fashion maven herself. Even if she is on track to have 7 years of bad luck.

Re: that book that I'm not really talking about

I am still in the phase where Nothing is Happening with my book. And by that I mean, we aren't ready to shop it for a publisher yet because we are still fine-tuning my proposal, which has gone through at least a dozen revisions. This is not a bad thing. In fact, I would choose the agency all over again, if given the chance to choose the agency all over again. My agent Heidi is incredibly thorough and dedicated to my project. She understands my heart for this book about the family we don't choose, but whom we choose to love, and the God who still chooses to love us. She understands the dilemmas I have as a writer shaping this book about my own life. She has read the manuscript a bazillion times, not because she's making a huge fortune by doing so. In fact, she hasn't yet made a dime off this work. That sort of blows my mind that someone who isn't yet paid cares so much about the quality of this whole package deal.

Let me tell you about the revisions, though. They pull all my guts out and stuff them in the dryer on a superfast spin cycle. Then they pack them back into my body bag and sew me up with twine. These revisions are a special operation. I usually love editing: other people's writing and even my own. This task of revising, though, holds some serious gravity. I've got a revising complex because these are words for a publisher to read and flirt with and fall into like with and maybe fall in love with, ultimately. For example, this one sentence that serves a sort of preamble to the proposal? I have stared at it for hours. This is not usually my m.o. Inspiration will usually strike me any old time, like while I am brushing my teeth or reading a book or while I am driving my kids home from school and listening to an old Hall & Oates song and then BAM! That's it! I'll just say, "I can't go for that (no can do)!" This one proposal sentence, though, just paralyzes me.

I am sincerely glad to be going through this exercise, though. I am learning to market my writing which is something somewhat new for me. I am also learning to appreciate this process that makes a believer out of oneself in one's own work. I used to think that all was an automatic residual: that one's confidence in one's work, if one had spent considerable time on it, was pretty much assured. So! Utterly! Untrue. I can work forever on my manuscript but if I'm not able to identify the key reasons why it is valuable, and will prove valuable to a readerly audience--then what? Big fat nothing is what.

So I push on, believing that we are closer, believing there is value in the process and in the product.

***

And just for ol' time's sake, here's my toss into the #ThrowbackThursday ring.

Baby Girl's first Red Sox game - Sept. 2008

Review: Legoland Atlanta

Baby Girl had the day off school on Friday, so we made the junket over to Atlanta to explore Legoland. I love to take advantage of kid-centric places when everyone else is at school, given my allergy to crowds and my abiding fear of Lego fanboy stampedes.

The first thing you should know about the woman writing this review is she is not a rich woman but this trip was a spendy affair. But an annual trip to Legoland? I'm down.

The second thing you should know about the woman writing this review (in addition to her strange allergies, fears and poverty) is that she's going to step up on her soapbox about violent toys and children. But then later she's going to be put to shame, so, haha. You get the last laugh at her expense.

Legoland ATL is about a 2 hour drive from where we live in E. Tennessee. Of course not including the obligatory trip to McDonald's for a Happy Meal, which my kids didn't even know what it was called. That made me proud. That pride is now deflated because I think they can now recognize a Happy Meal in a line-up. Shoot.

Legoland is located in a very posh mall in and around Buckhead, GA. The mall is 3 stories of opulence, and the cars on display in the mall are Porsches and Bentleys. In other words, I felt sort of underdressed in my Old Navy swag. But no matter, I was here for the blocks.

Tickets Tickets are $19/adult $15/child 2 and under are free. Buy tickets online for some savings. Memberships are available for $50/person.

The first attraction is a lego factory where the children learn how Legos are made. Very interactive and cute. The man leading the tour is known as Professor Brick-Brack. He is a learned scholar in Legology, obviously.

After the factory tour, you are ushered into the second attraction about which I am here to warn you. It is a ride much like through a haunted house at an amusement park. This ride is pee-your-pants scary for a 5 and 3 year-old. Dark and deathly. What's more, upon boarding the ride, the staff instruct the kids, "Here is your weapon." Because it's kind of like a laser tag ride where they point their little shooters at targets in order to save the princess. Really? Here's your weapon? Legos are made in Denmark. Denmark, you are better than this! Violent is not who you are!

After you are set free from the ride of the deathly hallows, you walk through a serene replication of Atlanta built entirely with Legos. This is pure awesome and I totally geeked out.

Finally, you are released into an enormous play area which includes: - an enormous jungle gym like they have at Chuck E. Cheese-type establishments (tip: bring socks for your littles, as my little hippies were excluded from this) - a cafe (didn't try) - a Duplo block area for wee babes - a soft Lego stacking area

- wicked cool car ramps

- a princess play -- complete with karaoke - a stamping instruction room - another ride that is not scary but totally awesome that makes kids pump their bicycle legs

- a movie theatre The movie lasts 10 minutes, is 4D and we watched it twice, so amazing was its cinematic feature.

Finally, of course, you cannot exit Legoland without paying a vi$it to the gift $hoppe, whereby we shook the Lego dust off our feet and bid adieu, promising to come back in a year or so.

We had a great time, except for that ghoulish ride that encouraged warfare. Parents should not condone the use of such weaponry. Further, they should not buy $8 foam swords for their children in the gift shoppe. It gives these impressionable ones all the wrong ideas.