This morning, I had to emerge from my holiday fever dream for some reality– luckily, it was a meeting with my good friend, mentor and partner-in-crime Nan.
If you’re not a regular, Nan and I have been working together for a decade. I’m an author assistant of sorts for her. She’s congenitally blind and a super-talented writer and editor. That’s why she’s one of the team at Parisian Phoenix Publishing.
Nan had written an essay, a humorous essay, “Large Object,” about my daffy life and my ineptness with my own calendar.
I slightly overslept, perhaps because of my killer strength workout last night– I benched 100 pounds with Andrew at Apex Training to meet my “Christmas Challenge.”
It wasn’t a good lift– but it was two sloppy reps that I technically lifted off my chest.
What was even more exciting was the full-body engagement I experienced during the lift. I haven’t been taking my muscle relaxer, Baclofen, and my legs have been stiff (and I wonder if some other symptoms I have had recently relate back to skipping meds) so I cramped pretty badly during the lifts. I came home and took the Baclofen and have continued it today, especially since yesterday I had a small trip.
So by the time I hauled my butt from bed on this damp, rainy, uncharacteristically 50-degree December day, I decided to take a Wawa coupon and get a free egg white, cheddar, honey turkey and spinach Shorti (with hot honey for the condiment) and man was that both basic and satisfying. (My blood pressure has been high, and up until yesterday I had been completely forgoing caffeine but that’s another story.)
I then swung by Panera for my free iced coffee as a member of the Sips Club. I love Panera’s coffee. This all meant going to Nan’s house backwards– which was a tad confusing especially in the rain. Do you ever do that? Get confused because you’re going the opposite way as usual on familiar roads?
The essay Nan wanted to cover was, like I mentioned above, “Large Object.” I giggled so hard while typing this because she captured the whole scenario so vividly. She also allowed me to do some footage for TikTok to introduce her on our Parisian Phoenix TikTok account.
From her essay:
Angel had a doctor’s appointment, a writers’ group audit and a job interview already on her calendar. As she checked her upcoming days, she suddenly started to laugh.
“Oh my,” she said, “on Monday, my calendar says, ‘LARGE OBJECT.’ I have no idea what I meant.” I quipped, “What? The meteor will hit your roof? The dinosaur will arrive in your backyard Monday morning? Santa’s sleigh practicing badly?”
Nancy Scott
The essay mentioned our love of planners, and I told Nan I finally got around to reviewing all of them that I had ordered for 2024. Then, I showed her the “winner.” And once again she ooo-ed and ahh-ed and lamented that if she only had the sight to see these calendars. And one day, I promised we would look for Braille versions.
Upon returning home, I prepared the TikTok video and received some packages as part of the Amazon Vine program. Once was a surprise for the Teen. And it made her very happy. A corset. Frankly, I was relieved it fit.
So, Stitch Fix was the first subscription-based, personalized clothing service. The company launched in 2010, as the lore has it on Valentine’s Day, and every year on Valentine’s Day, employees in our warehouse received the latest edition of the annual Stitch Fix t-shirt. I started with the company in their Pennsylvania warehouse, neighboring a small city named Bethlehem.
The facility itself was about a 1/4-mile long, and the smallest in the Stitch Fix network when I joined the team in November 2020. Our warehouse was nicknamed “The Bizzy.” During my time with the company, we had a network of six warehouses– ours was the second ever opened: The Bizzy (Bethlehem, Pa.), Breezy (Atlanta, Ga.), Dizzy (Dallas, Tx.), Hoozy (Indianapolis, Ind.), Phizzy (Phoenix, Az.), and Rocky (Salt Lake City, Ut.) And that doesn’t include operations in the United Kingdom.
The Rocky closed first. Bizzy is closing now. Dizzy is closing in a few more months. And Stitch Fix is pulling out of the UK.
Working for Stitch Fix
I loved working for Stitch Fix. They paid well considering the work we did. I was hired as part of an experimental shift during the pandemic, a second shift from 3:30 p.m. to midnight, to reduce the amount of people in the building at one time. We were called “The Midnight Society,” and we had badass sweatshirts. After midnight society, we moved to ten-hour cohorts to run the building seven days a week– in line with the Freestyle business, allowing clients to order their own items and have them delivered promptly. We live in a universe where those packages show up on our doorstep within a day or two. Eventually, that ended, and we were all folded into traditional day shift. I made three shift changes in two years, some of my peers made four changes in three.
The work was easy. The corporate culture was great. But all the change was hard. Many of us clung together like trauma victims, connected by the bonds of shared experience. And for me– if you know me personally or follow this blog you know this already– Stitch Fix allowed me to recover from past work experiences that shipped away at my self-esteem, explore my health issues and be honest about how my congenital disability impacted my body and my work life, and participate in a work environment where, except for some of that day shift crew that never quite accepted us, made me feel valued for my contribution and for who I am as a person in addition to my role as a cog in a very big wheel.
Even amidst closing our facility, Stitch Fix offered a lot of opportunity and support to displaced employees that they were not required to provide.
The Stitch Fix employee’s friend’s client experience
I clearly remembering sitting on my sunporch reading a Vogue when I learned that a woman named Katrina Lake had launched a clothing subscription service. I wished I could log on and subscribe to this then monthly– and only monthly– box service because I love fashion. I was watching Elsa Klensch on CNN back in the 1990s with awe. I adored Jean-Paul Gaultier and bought his then brand new perfume (it wasn’t Classique yet, it was the only one then) and a bottle of the oh-so-trendy Chanel vamp nail polish in Paris in 1995. (And the perfume spilled all over my suitcase on the flight home, leaving a wildly strong aroma and a very broken-hearted me.)
My novel universe, the Fashion and Fiends series of horror books, blends supernatural and paranormal monsters/events with the high fashion universe. It’s just a mix of art, function, commercialism and international influence that fascinates me. Here’s an excerpt from one of my academic papers on the topic, also from 2010.
So, mindlessly folding clothes in the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy while listening to podcasts and building my publishing company, Parisian Phoenix Publishing, suited me just fine. I got to see the clothes, touch them, build the boxes clients would open, and watch the machine whirl around me.
Stitch Fix offers its employees a 40% discount. We don’t get any additional discounts, like the 25% buy all, and we still have to pay styling fees. But when I started at the company, I was a single mom getting on my feet after four months of unemployment and I had gained 30 pounds that I hoped to lose again.
I gave my discount to a friend. Stitch Fix allows employees to designate their discount to anyone of their choosing, but this election can only change once every six months. My friend and I opened her boxes together– sometimes in person, sometimes via Zoom. The first couple boxes were fun, but soon we both started seeing repetitions. The algorithm that Katrina Lake raves about seemed to suggest very similar pieces to those in previous boxes whether or not my friend had kept previous items. And certain notes to the stylist the algorithm would ignore, like despite “no sleeveless” or “no horizontal stripes,” those items would come in the next box.
After a year, I had to admit those excess pounds might not be going anywhere soon. I was ready to get myself some clothes. We ordered my friend’s last box with my discount. And we opened it. I have embedded the video below, and note I am wearing a top and a pair of Judy Blue jeans that I purchased from the employee store at the warehouse.
The Stitch Fix employee’s daughter’s client experience
The Teenager, who had just turned 18, comes to me and announces that she has no idea what her own style is because people have purchased all of her clothes for her thus far in her life. As part of her Christmas present, I agree to pay for six months of Stitch Fix so she can work with a stylist.
Now, let me just go ahead and ruin the ending– this was a failure. I even looked at her client file and saw a note that the algorithm would not allow her stylist access to anything my daughter wanted. I know my daughter did not interact with the quizzes, nor did she bookmark items as favorites. Instead, she uploaded photos. And I don’t think the AI can understand that.
The first fix was moderately successful, but the later ones seemed to repeat, just like my friend’s did. I actually had more luck going into Freestyle and selecting items for her. I hoped that would make it better. It didn’t. If you watch the video of The Teenager and her first fix, she’s wearing a Hiatus t-shirt from Stitch Fix that I bought for her at the employee store in the warehouse.
Finally, MY experience as a Stitch Fix client and an employee
I feel justified in saying that the algorithm does not do as strong as a job as Katrina Lake would like us to believe. I received access to my employee discount in April 2023, and in June I received word that my warehouse would close and was led to believe I would lose my job in October when the lease to the Bizzy expired.
I had interacted with the quizzes for more than a year. I clicked on photos for my inspiration board. I ordered items from Freestyle and selected items as favorites for later. In the beginning, the hits and misses I assumed were part of the process. I signed up for the annual style pass ($50) so I no longer had to worry about styling fees if I kept nothing.
And then it started– despite purchasing every item I could find that met my criteria, my stylist could find nothing that suited my needs. Despite seeing multiple of items at my station every day, my stylist reports to me that none of the warehouses have anything like that. Despite saying I don’t wear sleeveless shirts for business or that I don’t have the shoulders for open blazers or cardigans, I get sleeveless shirts and open cardigans.
My discount expires in a few weeks, and all I want is to score a couple nice interview outfits. Yet, my stylist can’t seem to find access to anything that’s not a sweater or gaudy. I set up a fix in a panic Friday when I realized I didn’t have a white blouse that fit. I have a pair of Liverpool plaid pants, a pair of Violets & Roses plaid pants, a patterned Liverpool pencil skirt and a bright pink Skies are Blue blazer– all from Stitch Fix and on record in the system as “kept” purchases and not one shirt.
I wore a sleeveless mid-century style sheath with princess seams to my job interview, Calvin Klein from Stitch Fix. But I didn’t have a blazer.
I received a Preview of my fix today. I asked for blouses to match the clothes they know I have. I received one white Calvin Klein blouse which I told them to send, but I have a cream Calvin Klein blouse which is too big and they are sending the same size. They offered two ugly old lady sweaters, that I declined. A plain black shirt that was way too boring for the price and probably a Henley. Two pairs of pants and the black Liverpool pencil skirt (and I can hear the note from my stylist: “since I couldn’t find blouses that match your skirt, I sent a new skirt), which I also declined.
I then hit up Freestyle and didn’t find much either. But a package should be on the way. I don’t have the money, but shirts are necessary in the workplace. My fix will arrive October 16.
Cautions about Stitch Fix:
I have worked returns. My friends work returns. Gross things get returned and Stitch Fix allows it. We have received pants with blood stains, clothes covered with animal hair, dildos and underwear. I found a pair of socks in a cardigan pocket. As a consumer you should wash any garment you buy before you wear it. Stitch Fix takes stuff right out of the return envelope and puts it right back on the warehouse floor.
Ants, bedbugs, spiders. Because Stitch Fix accepts returns directly from the consumer, we accept their filth and critters, too. Each warehouse in the Stitch Fix network is monitored for pests, including monthly inspections from a bedbug sniffing dogs. And a month before I lost my job, my neighbor at the table six feet to my right found a bed bug on a pair of jeans she was folding for a client.
The algorithm sucks. Every Stitch Fix warehouse is supposed to carry the same merchandise, yet I never received anything close to what I had hoped to get from my Fixes. When I complained that my stylist could never “find” what I wanted, I received a note that Stitch Fix often runs out of items in certain sizes. Ummm… I’m an average woman looking for a basic white office blouse.
The shipping times have dramatically increased since the announced closure of half the warehouses. When I used to receive items or fixes within a day or two, it now takes about a week and often more. Returns take a month or more.
Exchanges are slow and costly. Often they don’t have a piece if a different size when you want it. If they do, they charge you a second time and refund your money for the returned item about a month later. So if you order a shirt off Freestyle, pay $75, return it because it’s too small and ask for another, they charge you another $75 immediately. So, you order the first shirt, pay $75, wait about a week for the shirt to come, order a second, return the first, pay another $75, wait another week. Let’s say the second shirt is fine. You have $150 on your credit card. And you have to wait another 2-3 weeks to receive a refund of the other $75. That’s about five weeks debacle for one shirt.
Benefits of Stitch Fix:
I LOVE being able to open my Stitch Fix account and see my kept clothes. It reminds me what I have and also suggests how I can wear my items when I just don’t know what to wear. Today, the weather has turned cold. I had planned to wear my hoodie to breakfast but then Stitch Fix reminded me I have a very cute cropped brown sweater with billowy sleeves. And ironically, I think this might work with my Violets & Roses plaid pants for an interview outfit.
Prices are reasonable if you know what the brands usually go for and watch the Freestyle sales.
If clothes are damaged, they will replace them.
They have a wide variety of clothes at their fingertips.
They can usually deliver clothes for any occasion quickly, if you order a fix. Freestyle is slow as molasses.
They take ANYTHING back.
These are all of my videos regarding our Stitch Fix experiences:
At the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy, the facilities crew is quite literally taking the warehouse down around us as we do our jobs. Bits and pieces of the warehouse are literally left on a “free” pile for employees to cannibalize– plexiglass, craft paper, pvc pipe, stickers, lanyards, pins. You never know what bits and pieces will turn up on the pile.
This week started early dismissals, where they let us go while paying us for the whole day. They already diverted the bulk of our work to the remaining warehouses– the Hoozy (Indiana), the Phizzy (Phoenix) and the Breezy (Atlanta). The company didn’t expect so many of us to stay so long. Tomorrow we have our final employee appreciation luncheon.
Today we received tickets for a raffle for some of the larger items left and some random prizes (outdoor chairs, air fryers, speakers, a shop vac) and furniture, decorations, and a bidet. They set up the items in the back of the warehouse, where we crossed an empty central zone where the facilities team has been stacking empty work tables, unneeded conveyer belts and pieces of racks in large cardboard gaylords.
And even amid this, and as I interview for new positions that range from professional to freelance to more warehouse work, I struggle to make my numbers. I almost wonder if my body is saying, “What’s the point?”
And today I realized, as we still struggle with “us against them” mentality in a warehouse full of cliques, that everyone is eager to help a friend with a temporary disability– like pregnancy, childbirth, surgery, an accident or an injury. But if people are asked to help a stranger or a peer with a permanent disability, especially if its something alien or scary to them, some will be reluctant or resentful. And some, if faced with someone who may have an invisible disability, will behave in a manner that is judgmental and without grace.
So, as I step into another sad day in our warehouse, I ask all of us to extend grace and kindness wherever we can.
I’m running out of steam– there are so many things to do and to talk about that I just can’t get to them all. And that’s okay.
I have commitments. I was elected president of the Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group. I have a child enrolling at Lafayette College in a month. I met with a young editor yesterday after my day job at Stitch Fix and absorbed her energy and hopefully helped her on her journey.
The decorations and the Braille are ready for tomorrow’s Disability Pride Lehigh Valley event.
And I manged to NOT put my underwear on backwards as I did on Wednesday.
Sometimes the little wins mean a lot.
In general my blood pressure and orthostatic hypotension symptoms have improved with the increased salt in my diet. If I get a good eight hours of sleep I feel decent. I have to ask if that’s due to the salt, the rest, or my frequent missing of my calorie goals (the other night I went on an eating binge and ate 500 calories of almonds. Who does that?). It also could be my increased stress levels as I’m losing my job in seven weeks.
Seven weeks.
The first medical bills from my March hospital stay has arrived, which like everything else, makes me wonder what’s to follow. I’ve started applying for full and part-time positions–but I really want to get a part-time position in something that will give me knowledge toward building my own business or to string together writing and editing clients.
But I have no savings to pull this off.
*I have a Substack and an underpromoted, underutilized Patreon if anyone wants to support Parisian Phoenix Publishing in those ways.
(And reviewing my own creator dashboard, I set up Patreon a year ago and didn’t do anything with it. Put that on the list, in addition to updating the web site in general.)
My recent experiences as a Stitch Fix client
I have waited more than a decade to launch into my client experience with Stitch Fix. If you’ve read any of my novels, you can probably imagine why. (More about my novels here.)
I started getting fixes around my birthday, which was in May. I had given my employee discount to a friend for a little more than a year, as I did not have the income for new clothes. If you are a regular here, you’ll know that the pandemic and my recent life and lack of discipline have led to a 30ish pound weight gain on my small frame, so that factored into my decision to postpone my fixes. Why buy new clothes if I’m not healthy and back to normal?
The Teenager told me around the Back-to-School season last year that she felt like she didn’t know her own style, because she didn’t get to buy her own clothes. So, I transferred my discount to her. And an employee discount can only be transferred every six months.
This week my fourth fix came. I can’t believe it’s four as I can only remember three, but these days I’m lucky if I can spell my own name.
So I asked for my fourth fix if my stylist could send suggestions for events related to titles launching at Parisian Phoenix Kink. Edgy, kinky, sexy. I even listed brands and ordered everything vegan leather I could find on Freestyle. Like pants. And a really amazing dress. The pants worked out, but the first dress was too small, and the second I did not order in petite so it was too long and for $250 I lost patience and wiggle room on my American Express to find “just right.” I did however find a dress, that although not vegan leather, fit the aesthetic and allowed room for my expanded-since-weight-gain bust size.
With all of this information of what I’d purchased, what I’d returned and why and so many items I had “saved for later,” the AI algorithm that Katrina Lake has bragged about in every podcast appearance I have heard should be able to show my stylist what I want. It should show me what I want.
And the same week Stitch Fix announced it was closing our Pennsylvania warehouse, Gwyneth Paltrow released an episode of her Goop podcast featuring Katrina, with whom she appears to be friends and retreat buddies, bragging about the algorithm and telling the same stories of Stitch Fix’s origins I’ve heard for three years.
Shipping times across the Stitch Fix network have increased, when the company eliminated its second shift (originally implemented for pandemic social distancing, splitting the warehouse staff in half) and asked us to convert to one of two 4-day, 10-hour cycles, the logic was that operating seven days a week (especially in our region where we can ship to anywhere in the continental US pretty much within 24-48 hours) would allow Freestyle orders to land at clients’ homes quickly.
And in my experience as client and employee, it did. My daughter was using my discount at that time and there was one incident when I ordered earrings on Friday night, coincidentally on Sunday morning around 7 a.m. on packed them, and I received them Tuesday morning.
I wrote a blog post (here). And I also made an unboxing video.
Now it often takes two weeks to receive an item. And we’re not even closed yet!
So, my fix preview comes. And I am very disappointed. I can see why the algorithm has selected certain items based on my past Fix purchases, but it’s like it has completely ignored the pile of things I have ordered from Freestyle since my last Fix.
Are you all still with me? Okay. So, the box arrives and I’m soooooo excited to see what kind of party outfit my stylist picked out. I know there’s a pink dress but everything else is a surprise. I ask The Teenager if she wants to see me open it.
She says, “Sure.”
And she starts the video. I open the material inside, and I see the “first fix” card that goes out to new clients. I am not a new client. I look at the Style Card and the name is not mine, the stylist is not mine and the fix is not mine. Now, despite the fact that I work for Stitch Fix and I fold and prepare 130+ of these fixes a day… despite the fact that this box came from our warehouse… and despite the fact that I also have performed the role of the person who prints, folds and drops the little envelope in the box…
In this moment, I am a client. It’s like all knowledge I have of of the process falls out of my head. (And it’s all on video you can watch it.)
“This is not my fix,” I say, despite the fact that I have already shown the camera a bundle with a pink dress in the middle.
I had glanced at the style card and saw that Becca, the client, had received athletic clothes and sneakers and I clearly had heels in that box.
I shoved the entire fix in the return envelope without even opening it. I was so angry and disappointed.
In my disoriented anger, I did not know that there was only a brief moment before check out that I could see the style card and note from my stylist that accompanied my fix. And I zoomed right by it as I started to realize that they were my clothes. And I recalled seeing some notes from my stylist about how the system wasn’t giving her the types of clothes I wanted so she tried to build some outfits based on what I had. But I had clicked past the note without fully reading it.
And now it’s gone.
Remember, I have waited more than a decade for these fixes. I have no clothes that fit because I gained weight during the pandemic. I am losing my job and I need clothes for interviews, business and launch parties.
I email customer support and ask for a copy of my stylecard.
At 4 a.m. the next morning, as I get dressed for work, I realize: I can peel the sticker off the box, research it and probably find my own damn style card. But we change in-house warehouse management systems so often I can’t remember which app does what I need it to do. I ask a lead– because now I realize one of the people who prints the style card is the one who screwed up my whole experience. She refreshes my memory.
I look up my package and realize my cat-loving friend Tom delivered my shoes to the picker, and that I know the name of the picker who ran around the warehouse on my behalf. The person who QC’ed my package– that’s the same job I normally do– was probably in the line next to mine. And then I see it. The person who handled my package last. It’s someone who is very good at her job and even gave me some tips once we moved to regular day shift.
This person means well, but punctuates her sentences with things like, “it’s not your fault. You second shift people weren’t trained properly.” I didn’t tell her she screwed up my box, and my animosity about the whole experience faded when I saw her name at the end of the line.
And my brain thought to itself, “it figures.”
By then, customer support had emailed me a PDF of my style card. Which I could have printed at work. But they offered to mail me a copy. So I thought, “Why not?”
I thanked the customer support person who took the time to explain to me how the warehouse works (because they always blame the warehouse, no one wants to hear that the beloved algorithm is broken). And I told her, “Yes, please mail me a copy. That would be lovely.”
I haven’t received it yet, but I do keep them. But that’s a blog entry for after my separation date.
I decide that maybe I’ll order one more fix, since I paid for the style pass so I won’t lose any money. And the preview comes… and guys… this one nails it.
It’s due to arrive at the end of the week, so here’s hoping this story has a happy ending.
I spent all day lightheaded, with it getting progressively worse all day. I altered my food today to include more sodium. I even brought my electrolyte powder to work, but no improvement. And yes– I did email my doctor. I had tried to schedule an appointment but with his current vacation schedule and his tendency to be heavily booked, I might be best served by my late August wellness visit.
When the lightheadedness threatens to become full dizziness, my heartrate is in the 110-115 beats per minute range, which scares me. But still no signs of Afib.
At work today I did 162 fixes, which was our goal when we were still on 10-hour shifts. Now it’s 164. But I spent 40 minutes at the safety team. We discussed resumes.
Speaking of Stitch Fix… my Freestyle order from last week came, or at least 75% of it came. It’s ridiculous how long it took to get here.
Now, I have to be up at 3:45 a.m. to start my ten-hour shift at 5:30 a.m. so let’s get on to the food diary…
4:15 a.m.: I made 26 ounces of Supercoffee with half and half. I put it in my thermal mug and it took me three-quarters of the day to drink half of it. Then I put ice in the other half and put it in the fridge.
8:30 a.m.: probably drank 24 ounces of water so far at work. First break was Cabot cottage cheese, sipping my coffee and enjoying a golden kiwi. The cottage cheese had 18% of my RDA in sodium.
11:30 a.m.: Wendy’s chicken sandwich, the super basic one and I asked them to remove the mayo and add ranch and pickles, but they didn’t listen and merely removed the mayo. Added my own ranch and pickles. Had some sliced packaged apples and plaintain chips. The plaintain chips have minimal sodium and some vitamins. The chicken sandwich was processed so it had to be salty, but none of it made me feel better.
1:30 p.m.: probably drank about 24 more ounces of water and drank 1/2 my mason jar of water with my electrolyte powder. I finished it after work. Also had a bag of cashews.
6 p.m.: the teenager made dinner. Caesar salad with fried chicken, red peppers and cucumbers. I had two big bowls. And a glass of unsweetened iced tea, Earl Grey.
Then I packed a meatloaf sandwich on rye with creamy miso and nutritional yeast, another kiwi and licorice bites for lunch tomorrow. I also set the coffee pot to brew more Supercoffee at 4 a.m. and added some organic cacao into the coffee grounds.
Even before the month went off the rails, Gayle and I made plans to visit the fashion exhibits at two of our local Lehigh Valley art centers: the Allentown Art Museum and the Banana Factory. The teenager’s work schedule allowed her to join us, and she had been to neither spot in probably a dozen or more years.
Her father and I once held memberships at both the Lehigh Valley Zoo and the art museum– as both are great places to entertain a preschooler.
Gayle wanted to see the art museum exhibit because she had some of those clothes from the Sixties, and I wanted to see it because I love post-World War II history and I have a minor obsession of fashion in the artistic sense. If you’ve read my Fashion and Fiends novels, this makes sense.
I took sooooooo many photos and honestly– hey, Joan, take note: I’d like to go back and bring a sketch book and some implements. And if I had a camera…
Our first stop had to be the Frank Lloyd Wright library. The Teenager has always loved it, and today proved no exception. She had a magnificent time pointing out how all the details fit together and complemented each other in clean, minimal design.
I am always drawn to certain items: the Tiffany glass, the writing set, the painting of the tall man with many eyes that hangs in the stairs, the man with the pipe that makes me think of Pablo Picasso, and the woman with cigar.
But then came the fashion…
I think I might wear these.Sixties profiles, note the white leatherclassic black pleats and burgundy boots that really accentA dress with see-through pants and bold gold jewelrymen’s paisley pants that I adorehosiery from Hess’s (What color!)So simple.I love boots.How far we’ve come.colors, patterns galoreI gasped in delight when I saw thesewhat delightful patternsI can’t even. Clown shoes.First glance: Kangaroo? Then, notice the lines, the overlapping necklines, how the zipper aligns with the ties
So much to explore. Colors and patterns vibrating through the room.
And since the museum no longer charges admission, I bought a very bold umbrella at the gift shop.
Next, we headed to South Bethlehem’s Banana Factory. At their exhibit, featuring the work of local designer Barbara Kavchok. The work blew my mind, and the paintings and fashion illustrations that accompanied the dresses… well, if I wasn’t losing my job I would have inquired how to obtain one or two. The flowers. The ruffles. The lines. All just flabbergasting.
I had to stop in the bathroom, where I paused to take photos of the paint stains in the sink.
I had been trying to eat healthy all day, and all day my blood pressure was low and my body wobbly (to use the teen’s words) and hands shaky. So I got a chicken sandwich at Wendy’s.
Every day I find myself more ashamed of my weight and my food choices– and every day I make more excuses. It has to stop. It just has to change. My body can’t take the extra pounds.
So, it’s on the major media outlets that Stitch Fix is closing two warehouses– or distribution centers as the press release called them– and we are on the list. About 375 people losing their jobs.
Meanwhile, forests are burning in Canada and our air quality has reached such terrible levels that we can not only smell the fire, but the daylight has turned the world into a sepia photograph of sorts and the particles can theoretically absorb into our bloodstream through our skin.
And I also found out via social media that Big Papa’s Breakfast Bistro had a little incident and will be closing until insurance companies can agree and repairs can happen.
And I didn’t get any good news… Gayle needs not one but two surgeries on her eyes for pseudoexfoliated glaucoma and cataracts. There’s an omission in the book that got stuck for two weeks in prepress at the printer and we need to do it again. And don’t tell The Teenager but the distributor has issue with her Tarot book. But I’m appealing their issues.
In the midst of all this, while knowing we’re in a strange limbo between getting laid off and not knowing when our last days will be or what severance packages they will offer us, we’re faced with an apocalyptic landscape.
Another Day at the Bizzy Hizzy
Today was Rainbow Pride Day at our warehouse, with each department wearing a color to support our LGTBQIA+ peers. Outbound had the color red. I donned a low cut red bodysuit under pants, with a red embroidered bathrobe that everyone assumed was a kimono. I called it my cape. I also put on my red glasses.
I went in a half-hour early as my neighbor works the 6-2:30 shift and my car is at the collision center. I got an email from them today stating my car should be done Tuesday. It needs a new bumper. But then I got a text from the collision center an hour later saying that my car has been moved from the prep department to the paint department.
One of our leads approached me today to tell me that I write well, and I thanked her, and perhaps babbled too much at her. And plenty of people complimented my kimono.
We had a safety team meeting despite the bad news delivered yesterday, and we ended up eating doughnuts and bagels while discussing how best to move forward. What started as a conversation about resume building ended up in the zone of how to build a lucrative Only Fans.*
*The Only Fans idea was not suggested nor encouraged by our employer. It was merely a humorous discussion about how we might be able to get people to give us money.
Already, this is not an ordinary lay-off scenario. One of my friends, and I forgot if I’ve given her a nickname, has laid claim to the gong. Supervisors don’t know for sure if they can let her take it home, but if they can… Well, I might have to name this person “Queen of the Gong.”
We also debated what to do with all of the break room toasters. Stitch Fix has a lot of break rooms, and probably at least 20 cheap, double toasters that have rarely been cleaned in the last seven years, if ever.
Metrics for the day landed between 103 and 105 percent for me. I had 30 minutes of overtime and 45 meetings of doughnut meeting– which means I needed to do about 127 fixes to reach 100%. I did 131.
I’m a little glad The Teenager drank all the soda in the house, now there’s not even a splash of Fresca left for me to use as a mixer for the tequila or rum.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
I slept in today (5 a.m.), finished editing Julian Costa’s upcoming book, and starting writing a new memoir that I’m working on for a new Parisian Phoenix author.
Apparently there are Canadian wildfires causing smoky air quality in our region. Which logistically doesn’t make sense.
I took my car over to the collision center for a new bumper, which I’m told could take up to a week and a half. The Teenager drove me to work after, and I think I arrived at the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy warehouse by 10:10 a.m.
But when I walked in the building– from the moment I arrived– things felt wrong. And when I made it into the door to the main breakroom, I knew there was bad news afoot. Very bad news. The room felt dark. It was crammed with all of us. And I heard the door to “P&C” open (People & Culture, that’s the politically correct term for HR) and one of our outbound managers was there. She’s one of the day people. But I had to have answers, because even she seemed solemn. And she always has a smile.
“Did you just get here?” she asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.
She motioned me into the vestibule. “There’s no easy way to say this, and I’m sorry you didn’t hear it from [our building manager] but the Bizzy is closing in October.”
“So,” I replied, “should I go clock in?”
She nodded.
I crept through the breakroom. Some people were sobbing, associates and leaders alike. Some of the toughest people I’ve known were fighting tears. Some people went home. My direct supervisor had red eyes and am expression that looked like someone had knocked the air out of his lungs.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’ll be okay,” he said, unconvincingly.
“You look so sad,” I said. “I feel like I should hug you.”
“You can hug me,” he said.
I gave him a tight embrace.
We were told that we will get our individual separation plans next week. Those who stay until the end will get severance. The Dallas facility– the Dizzy Hizzy– will close a few months after ours. The Bizzy opened seven years ago, and yesterday it was announced that we won the network competition. This is one hell of a prize. Our warehouse is the smallest in the network, cramming merchandise in a space half the size of the newer buildings. Our lease expires this year, so what we gain for the bottom line in shipping rates, we must not have the flexibility of the newer spaces.
I’ve loved my job at Stitch Fix. I love many of my work colleagues. I appreciate how much the company does to keep our health insurance rates low and our other benefits perky.
But this is a blow.
I think of the supervisor waiting for major surgery. The people close to retirement. The couples where both parties work at Stitch Fix. The pregnant women.
I think of myself, my service dog, my financial worries, my disability, my mental health, my future. I haven’t recouped enough of my losses from my recent health scare and hospital stay to approach this with security.
And Louise is getting adopted this weekend. It may be time to give up Touch of Grey and Canyon to other fosters who can afford them.
I have four months to figure out how to make Parisian Phoenix solvent– or face another transition to another job.
I haven’t written in a while. Again. I’ve wanted to– I’ve started blog entries and not finished them. I’ve posted on Parisian Phoenix’s web site. Please, if you haven’t subscribe to the mailing list over there or on Substack. Or buy a book. From Parisian Phoenix directly or wherever you prefer to buy books. We have an affiliate shop on Bookshop.org, that’s another option to consider.
Meanwhile, forgive the cornucopia of prepositions in that title.
And I think it’s time to give another work friend an official nickname. I’m going to christian another work friend, the one with the stylish purple glasses that really complement her skin tone, as “Faithful Bizzy Reader.” She is one of my tribe, one of us who has migrated from Midnight Society to the Sunday cohort to traditional day shift at our Pennsylvania Stitch Fix warehouse. Those transitions, as brutal as they’ve been over the last 16 or so months, have made us a raucous bunch. At least, that’s how we behave at our lunch table. She’s noticed my sporadic posts, and today I admitted that my physical health has drained me to the point where I have nothing left to write.
The disability/cerebral palsy/dog stuff
As I’m sitting here, my Goffin’s cockatoo is grooming me, and I’m trying to get her to trim my hangnail. She’s really good at hangnails and splinters. If you never heard the story of the raisin that fixed my gait and how Nala the Goffin removed my splinter, you can read that story here.
I have dealt with various levels of pain on and off for more than a week now. I prayed that it would end with my chiropractor appointment last week, but it didn’t. It went from an eight to a two, so I was happy with the improvement, but then cycle of vacillating between slight and excruciating burning continued for days. My glutes, my lower back, my quads and sometimes my knees scream horribly. And when an “attack” comes upon me, standing there takes all my energy and makes me want to vomit. The burning sensation never goes away. My quads and lower back are throbbing with about a two of pain right now, seated in this chair at my desk. And my calves are pulsing. Maybe even spasming.
I tried taking more muscle relaxers. I tried exercise. I tried rest. Nothing seems to make it better or worse. I even brought Sobaka with me to the gym. (If you look at the photo on the right, that’s Greg who founded Apex Training with our neighbor princess dog who has been staying with us this week. Also, my name is very close to the upper left hand corner on the chalkboard wall.)
Interestingly, my trainer Andrew said my posture in some of my core related movements looked good. But man, every exercise was a struggle. Even the “pop-squats” he asks me to do, merely sitting down and popping back up as soon as my butt hits the bench required a lot of concentration. And I honestly don’t know how I survived hamstring curls as my legs haven’t wanted to cooperate with things like basic walking or stretching out my quads. But I did it. I was really hoping the extra blood flow would help.
But it didn’t. And after so many days of inconsistent pain, I just want to sleep for a week and stream TV.
My toe and my Morton’s neuroma have not been bothering me, but I did order my latest pair of shoes a half-size bigger.
And in positive news, I received an email from Susquehanna Service Dogs that they received my post-CTE (canine therapeutic evaluation) paperwork and will be reaching out to schedule a home visit. The final step between me and the waiting list for a service dog. “Both you and [The Teenager] provided awesome, valuable feedback in your emails,” my coordinator in the program wrote. “I’m glad that you had yet another chance to work with Miss Katydid– she is spunky!!”
The Stitch Fix stuff
I’ve been struggling at work. Luckily my stats, even at my worst days have remained around 100%. I’ve been on a downward spiral ever since I got sent to work in inbound processing for a day. That day, working on the back of a line on a table forcing me to pass baskets pretty far forward and to my right, shifted something. I don’t have an injury, but ever since that day, the pain I’ve grown familiar with in my hip has moved into my tailbone and quads. It’s nice that my femur no longer feels like it’s poking a hole through my pelvic bone, but now my muscles of my lower body always feel like they are overtaxed.
Anyway, whatever is happening in my body caused me to miss metrics three days in a row and now I’m in the middle of a probationary period of sorts known as “focus,” a first warning where Stitch Fix, my supervisor and myself work together to discover how Stitch Fix can “support me” because four rounds of “focus” can lead to termination.
Or I’m guessing will lead to termination.
I don’t know what to think– and once again I find myself placed in a situation where I need to be more of an advocate than I ever wanted to be. I enjoy my job. I love the people. I find the wages and benefits fair. But will it come to the point where I have to argue that 1. Their lack of following my approved medical accommodations during that day in inbound may have caused this whole situation (and I did not advocate enough for myself at the time, because I didn’t know it would f*ck me up) and 2. I have worked for the company for nearly two-and-a-half years and I have always experienced periods where I just cannot perform like the average person. Their recent change in metrics have placed me at a disadvantage, and I still have the capacity to do just as much work as the average person over longer periods of time, I just cannot do it every day. And the two days a month of grace they allow us does not fit my body.
So… keep in mind… yesterday I did 136 fixes, which is 105% of the daily minimum expectation of 130 fixes. I could have done 140, but I slowed down toward the end. In the old system, those extra fixes would have cushioned my numbers. Today, I did 130 while fighting nauseating pain and fighting for balance. I could have done 131, but again, it won’t matter. But in the old system, had I done 140 and 131, that puts me 11 fixes ahead for the weekly average, which means if I only made 120 later in the week, I would still hit my numbers.
I understand that they need consistent performance, but if you know an employee is giving 100% and that employee has a documented disability, that employee deserves a little bit of leeway.
I have a lot of questions about this “focus” concept. But, if once I get out of my focus period, how long do I have to perform at 100% before I end up clear of my record of first focus, because it’s only a matter of time before my body can’t do it. So, how long do I have to last before receiving a second focus, versus another first focus?
The fun Stitch Fix (fashion) stuff
There are several items in the Stitch Fix inventory I have wanted for a very long time. One is the Papermoon ember sweatshirt in dark gray that reads, “Weekend.” I love the cut of the Hiatus t-shirts. There is a Lagerfeld ruffle, striped tank top. Some Liverpool plaid pants. I could go on…
And since I received my discount back from The Teenager, I went on a bit of a shopping spree and bought some sale items. But, meanwhile, I kept thinking of the Skies are Blue Hannah modal blazer in magenta. It’s normally $88, incredibly silky, and the perfect color to represent Parisian Phoenix at events. Don’t confuse this with the Skies are Blue boyfriend blazer in magenta– the Hannah blazer is sleeker, softer and less boxy.
I earmarked the blazer as a favorite in my Stitch Fix account. It popped up in my proposed looks, as it does in the photo to the right. I already own that bag. I love that bag, the Urban Expressions utility tote in mustard if memory serves. I love the dress, but my middle-aged saggy mama belly couldn’t pull it off, and I would certainly wear those boots. But seeing this look made me cave and buy the blazer. Thank you employee discount! It headed out from the Breezy in Atlanta and should be here Friday.
The boring stuff
Finally, in household stuff: I still need to finish my local and state taxes, and pay the per capita tax. My drivers license renewal form came. I cleaned the air purifier in my bedroom (primarily caked with that chalky white bird dust) and must do a deeper than usual clean of the two cat boxes in my bedroom because I’m smelling ammonia in there. The Teenager had chicken quesadillas on the menu tonight. And I have a library meeting on Zoom at 7 p.m. I serve on the board of trustees at my local public library, the Mary Meuser Memorial Library.
So, there will be no sleeping for a week or streaming TV. Instead, I will attend my meeting and collapse in bed in exhaustion and get dressed out of the laundry basket in the living room because I just don’t have the strength to carry it up the stairs.
I just noticed I haven’t stopped by since Tuesday night… The biggest news of the week is that the I got my new glasses from the eye doctor and also my spares ordered completely online from Warby Parker. I am very happy with all my new frames and lenses so let’s hope the feeling doesn’t wear off.
Angel Ackerman 