As I am part of the Amazon Vine reviewer program, we get a lot of packages. I spend about an average of an hour every day opening packaging, checking out products and updating what items we are ready to review. The Teenager had a moment of brilliance, and created a package-opening station in our sun room– a garbage can for packing materials, a recycling can for the cardboard once I’ve broken it down and I set my Stitch Fix tool bag on the sill. It contained my ceramic knife, my safety box cutter, a sponge/eraser and my fingerless gloves among other little items like pencils.
The safety box cutter migrated to my desk. My Stitch Fix branded fingerless gloves ended up on the floor.
But on Monday, when I went to open a pile of packages, the clear bag of tools was gone. Just gone. My guess is that it fell off of the window sill and into the garbage can when The Teenager took out the trash, and it looks like it did it before she changed the trash as the trash can is empty. And the trash has long been carted away.
It’s nothing important. But the loss of the small cosmetic-bag-sized collection of tools from the warehouse made me pause and dropped me into a sadness, a grief, that I did not anticipate.
You see on Friday, on Friday it will be six months exactly since I left the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy. I have had many interviews, many hopes and still put out many applications. In my heart I still hope to make my small publishing services and book publishing operation a success and live off that, but unemployment will end very soon so the reality looms.
I still believe I can succeed.
I did not anticipate the way the universe seems to be saying, “it’s over. It’s really over. Do not cling to these thoughts and items you clung to in the warehouse.”
I have a few friends who I have kept. Many other people I had hoped would stay in touch and it doesn’t seem to be happening, but life goes on.
I am so surprised by the depth of my sadness at losing a ceramic box cutter and a spongy eraser thing.
But sometimes you really, really have to let go to move on. And in my opinion, the universe or “God” or whatever creative power you believe in, kicks you in the ass to make you do it.
So one of the products I’ve reviewed is a pack of French motivational stickers– and if you know me, you know I adore the French language. These stickers make me happy and I am plopping them onto my computer and my calendar.
Another was a small message board that I have set upon my desk and I periodically change the quote and my goal is to post quotes from my clients, because my clients and authors are the people who keep me going.
Joe recently ordered a lot of hardcover books for the upcoming Pennsylvania School Library Association conference and when he asked me how much he owed me… well, it was a nice chunk of money, ending in $6 and some off change. He immediately texted that he would get me the $6 soon and for some reason that made me cackle. So I put it on the board.
And then, more recently, I had to announce the discontinuation of my “friends and family” rate for clients and one of my clients sent me a long email supporting my decision because I am not running a charity, he said, and I need to keep a room over my head, gas in my car and (my favorite) Panera coffee in my belly. So I added his quote, “You deserve to have an adequate income,” to my board. (I also placed the board beside my enormous “I’m kind of a big deal” mug and my silly jellyfish aquarium lamp.)
Last week created a lot of stress for me. Good stress I guess because clients all needed things and checks are coming in this week. But it also taught me that I really need to protect my sanity in this endeavor.
Today, I took the checks to the bank, deposited some cash payments from clients, and took my neighbor who just had cataract surgery to run errands. We visited the municipal building, which I had only ever seen the council chambers. That allowed me to view a few Wilson borough artifacts.
The Western Addition of the City of Easton, a blue print map of building plots available, dated 1893, hung on the wall. It was indeed blue, like the slate blue of an old fashioned chalkboard, and it showed what would later become Wilson Borough.
I didn’t realize– or perhaps deep down inside I did– that I did not write in this blog at all in the month of January. I have written in the Parisian Phoenix blog, on my Substack, for the Lehigh Valley Armchair Substack, for Kiss and Tell magazine, for press releases and social media…
But not here.
I have spent much time applying for jobs, going on job interviews, and following up with second interviews, and working with my authors at our small publishing company, attending networking events, meeting with other writers and professionals, and grocery shopping at discount retailers like Grocery Outlet and the Dollar Tree.
(Grocery budget has been $25/week, but this week I splurged and bought a baker’s dozen bagels for $9.50 at Panera because they have a sale on Tuesday, and I used my CVS coupons and their sales to buy 2 boxes of KIND breakfast bars, a box of Grape Nuts and a box of Cocoa Krispies for $13.)
My personal favorite cheap meal this month has been these gnocchi from the Dollar Tree, served with a cream sauce I made with butter, lemon, and some artichoke hearts (using the oil they were marinated in). The artichoke hearts and the Barber Foods Chicken Stuffed with Broccoli and Cheese came from Grocery Outlet. The whole meal cost me about $3 per serving. And I used up some half and half that was on its last leg.
If it weren’t for car insurance for the teen and heat (I’ve been keeping the house at a balmy 60 degrees since I had to pay for $600 in furnace repairs in December), I have enough clients to keep me afloat indefinitely even after unemployment runs out in about six weeks. But the uncertainty of it all is hard. My biggest faux pas since my lay off was dropping the oil cap into the engine compartment of my car while topping off my fluids before a winter storm.
Luckily, good old Southern Candy and her son came to my aid and he fished it out for me– took him 45 minutes and the promise of the $50 cash I had in my wallet. I could hear my Dad laughing the entire time. I swear he’s been playing practical jokes on me from the afterlife with all of these little mechanical problems.
Like he’s checking to make sure I can take care of myself.
Sometimes, Daddy, I don’t know.
We had two snowstorms in January. During one of which, the first actually, one of the Teenager’s college friends spent the night. (Photo: Here they are at about 10 p.m. having a snowball fight with one of our neighbors, a high school friend of the Teen.) The College Friend hails from Los Angeles, so this was her first snow. And we bundled her up in home-knit hats and gloves and sent her out to shovel and play in my snow boots. Because Lord knows I am not going out in that if I don’t have to.
I drove over to the Bizzy Hizzy, the now nearly empty Stitch Fix warehouse, to show my daughter the old Freestyle and Pick carts that had been set out for the trash. The carts are laminated, corrugated cardboard so I imagined they deflated pretty badly in all the rain. I explained to her how we used to pick, and showed her the pencil cans we used to hold our water bottles and the heavy-duty page protectors that held the pack slips after installation of the Big Ass Fans blew them out of the carts. Three years, evaporated and erased.
I’m still working out with Andrew at Apex Training and meeting my strength goals even if I am failing at my weight goals. The Teen says I need to be more body-positive, but I know I am regularly showing more than 500 garbage calories into my body for the emotional sensation of it. And I also know that as someone with heart and mobility issues, being overweight is not helping.
In good news though, because I share so much about my journal both as someone with cerebral palsy and someone who finds strength training cool and empowering, several other members of my gym are now setting strength goals and strength training into their routines.
While visiting Nan the other day I got to meet a really cute dog. She’s a French sheep dog. Nan and her owner both told me her breed and now I don’t remember. I asked Siri and she suggested a Wheaten Terrier or a Goldendoodle and both of those are wrong. So, I googled French sheep dog breeds and it suggested a few and I immediately recognized the word “Briard.” And it is indeed a dog that would get stuck in briars.
And last week, the Echo City guys and I went out to Pints & Pies for burgers for the guys and pizza for me. It was a very tasty pizza. I have been dreaming of it and the cold Yuengling draft I had ever since.
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:
So, once again, I find myself uncertain of what nicknames I have given my friends at the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy. My neighbor took off today, and Southern Candy (today was her last day) went to breakfast with her department when they released us at 9:30 a.m. Yes, we worked three hours today. I brought my friend, we’ll call her Gong-Obsessed, home and headed to Grocery Outlet and The Dollar Tree to buy what Groceries I could with the $55 cash I had in my wallet.
The men’s QC department is moving to our end of the warehouse on Monday and they are taking line 1, so I will be leaving my table. I’ve been at this table, 18, for about nine months now.
Farewell, 18.
After babbling about book production to Gong-Obsessed, I headed to Grocery Outlet where I spent too much of my budget on the Teenager. I am such a mom. She has an ear infection and drippy sinuses so I bought some things to make her life more pleasant.
I totally forgot to look for my Cabot cottage cheese– which was the whole reason I went to Grocery Outlet. Cottage cheese provides a low calorie, high protein, sodium rich food which is convenient for me.
One of my strategies for economic hard times is to use cash only for grocery shopping. Pay your bills and whatever is left (after gas) is for groceries. Since I got paid today, and only have one more pay check and no future full-time work lined up, I limited myself to my cash in my wallet because whatever is in the bank is now for bills and bills only.
Once I get to the store, I buy what’s cheap and versatile. I don’t necessarily meal plan as much as organize themes. Rice can be a base carb for just about anything. That same rice with a pile of beans and a small can of chili can now stretch to feed a family. English muffins can be the base for a sandwich, or a breakfast food, or with some creativity a hamburger bun or a pizza crust. Cheese can be a quick source of protein and calcium, and while peas usually aren’t anyone’s favorite veggie, they also add a touch of protein to meals, and can be tossed into rice dishes, casseroles, cheesy or alfredo pasta, or hot/cold salads.
What I did get at Grocery Outlet:
Honey Flavored Navy Beans, 0.99
Kosher Dill Pickle Spears, 1.49
Six Whole-Wheat English Muffins, 1.99
Almond Thins Sriracha Crackers, 0.99
Ortega Mojo Chile Lime Sauce, 1.49 (when you’re low on food, a cheap bottle of sauce can elevate a ‘struggle meal’ into something pleasurable. I’m getting ready for lean times here.)
Turkey Chili, two cans, 0.47 each
Zesta Saltines, 0.77 (can make soup more filling, serve as breadcrumbs if need be, and it’s been ages since I had butter-on-a-saltine as a snack, and with a sick kid at home, something is just soothing about saltines.)
Cabot Bac’n and Cheese Dog Biscuits, 2.50 (the dog couldn’t even focus on her sit-stay when I opened these.)
Cocoa Cinnamon Toast Crunch Cereal, 1.99 (The teenager loves Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Cocoa Pebbles– I had to see if this would be ‘the best of both worlds.’)
Bananas, five, .52/lb, .94
Fresh blackberries (pint), 1.99
‘Nano’ Cucumbers (quart), .99
frozen avocado chunks, 5.99 (This was the most expensive item I bought, but it’s less expensive and less waste than buying fresh avocados. I put some in a bowl, maybe 3/4 to 1 cup, thaw them in the fridge and stir them into a paste for dip, for toast, or to flavor dishes. It disappears usually within 48 hours and a bag of frozen avocado has 3-4 batches in it.)
Boca Chicken Patty, 1.99 (Even if you’re not a vegetarian or even if you prefer not to use processed food, fifty cents a serving and it’s a protein you can toss in the freezer and add to just about any meal in a minute.)
Jimmy Dean Spinach Frittata Plant-Based Egg Sandwiches, 2.99. (I originally bought these for The Teenager, because she’s going through some medication AND routine changes AND financial changes so eating has been a struggle. For 75 cents a serving, she has an easy breakfast. But now that I see they are plant-based, I might take some to work for break next week.)
frozen peas, 1.19
Birds Eye ranch-flavored cauliflower, .99 (nutritionally not the strongest choice, but add some rice and some white beans and that ranch flavor could sass up a meal)
Hall’s cherry flavored cough drops, .50 AND
Nasal decongestant spray, 1.49 (both to help get the Teenager over the hump of her ear infection and sinus congestion)
Goya Dulce de Leche rice pudding, four servings, 0.99 (because the Teenager doesn’t feel well and she loves rice pudding)
Pillsbury buttermilk biscuits in a can, two cans, .50 each (like the English muffins these can go with any meal at any time of day and be reshaped into other dough if one finds themself in a pinch)
Sabra classic hummus, family size, .97
two percent milk, half gallon, 2.08
shredded sharp cheddar cheese, 8 ounces, 1.99
Taco Bell branded “fire” shredded cheese, 7 ounces, 1.99
Technically, this gave me $12 for the Dollar Tree. Now, with all that food, why did I have to go to the Dollar Tree? Because my comfort food, especially when I am sick, is Spaghettios, and apparently I have passed that along to my daughter, because she requested Spaghettios.
Since the Dollar Tree now costs $1.25 per item and sometimes their groceries ring up as taxable, and I don’t feel like arguing with cashiers today, I capped myself at 8 items. I had enough for nine, but wanted to be safe.
I purchased:
Spaghettios, two cans, one with Franks Red Hot for me and one with Chicken Meatballs for the Teenager
A pretty nice sized bag of white long grain rice
A can of black olives, whole
Schweppes ginger ale, 1 liter, because I have a child with a sore throat at home and she ripped it out of my hands as soon as she saw it.
Generic diet soda, 3 liters
Sonic freeze pops, again, for the sick child
Gnocchi, because the gnocchi from the dollar store is filling and has a decent amount of protein
I feel a little guilty right now because The Teenager has a sore throat and what appears to be the start of an ear infection. It’s a common occurrence for her and nothing says “back-to-school” like an ear infection on a 95-degree September day.
I had a good day, and despite my ongoing sensation of exhaustion (none of us who work at the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy sleep well these days) I am experiencing an emotion I think I recognize as joy. It is bittersweet as I had to say goodbye to two work friends today, and many more will go tomorrow.
Speaking of the warehouse closure, I’m starting to feel unsure whether we are closing a business or a preschool. Today’s free pile included lanyards, insulated branded lunch bags, gift bags, inflatable guitars, bingo cards, and raffle tickets. Yesterday I brought home stickers, pipe cleaners, serving trays made out of cardboard-ish, egg carton material and I almost had a collapsible storage cubby but a random elderly colleague came over, took it out of my hand and said, “excuse me, that’s mine.” I handed it over because 1. I’m not acting petty over free things and 2. I was taken aback (but not surprised) by the gall.
My neighbor whose nickname I can’t recall had the other cubby and she offered hers to me, but I declined. She picked hers up fair and square. And really, I don’t need more random stuff.
I’m going to bounce around in this blog post, but I’ll try to use subtitles.
Sharing my words
So I went to my neurologist/physiatrist today and I gave her one of the Parisian Phoenix books, Not an Able-Bodied White Man with Money. We had talked about it the last time I saw her and she told me to email her the info because she wanted to buy it. No one has ordered that book since the last time I saw her, therefore I thought it was safe to bring her a copy.
She started flipping through it right away. She teasingly chastised me for distracting her, and I told her that next time I would save books for the end of the visit. She also mentioned she had a patient whose wife was considering approaching a breeder about a mobility dog prospect for her husband, and she (my doctor) wanted to know the name of the program where I am on the wait list.
My doctor believed it would be too much expense and too much of an undertaking for this couple to buy a dog and have it trained as a service dog, especially since they don’t even seem confident that a dog is right for them. My doctor suggested looking for a program, and I offered to speak with them if they so desired.
When I left the office, I discovered organizers of the Artful Dash on the Stirner Arts Trail here in Easton reached out via Instagram to ask if they could use photos from my blog to promote this year’s 5K. I, of course, gave them permission.
Medical stuff
Today was my last specialist appointment before my benefits change. My team and I seem to be on the same page, and they appreciate the fact that I pay attention to my body and try to implement lifestyle habits to counteract any health issues.
My gynecologist, primary care physician and my neurologist/physiatrist all agree that some of my current stiffness and bladder issues may stem from a combination of stress and change in exercise habits. Now that my increased sodium intake seems to have eliminated my orthostatic hypotension and decreased my fall risk, I am working on losing weight (ten more pounds off by Christmas I hope) and paying more attention to my urination issues. My current management of my potential incontinence symptoms includes using a toilet every time I see one, and honestly, unless I start having recurrent issues in public I’m not concerned. It could be, my neurologist said, that my theory that my days of bad spasticity means my bladder might be having spasms, too.
And the random tingling limbs so far is not a cause for concern. But, as always, I have a list of symptoms to watch for.
Random Caramel Apple Iced Coffee
We received Wawa gift cards at work last week and I stopped yesterday and got a caramel apple iced coffee. Now, I don’t normally like Wawa’s iced coffee. It’s too weak for me. But the cold brew was a $1 more and I’m cheap.
It was delicious, though I do wish the coffee were stronger and they never put enough ice in there so it’s always warm by then end. Because I don’t normally drink sugary coffee I was buzzed by the time I got to the gynecologist.
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.
It is 4:38 a.m. and I’m drinking dark roast coffee, double caffeinated, and thinking. I gave myself permission this week– despite being behind on publisher-related business– to work on my own novel, the fourth volume of the Fashion and Fiends series, Road Trip. I’m about one-quarter through the second draft, which is where the bones of a story usually beefs up and becomes what the reader might recognize as a full-fledged book.
Every day, despite whatever struggles have me in their grasp, I look for beauty in the moment and the world rarely disappoints me. But ever since learning my day job, Stitch Fix, is closing our warehouse and my end date is September 15, the blend of anxiety, stress and hope is taking a toll on my medical and physical health.
The dietician is right. I need more sleep and I need more salt. I had been on the path for some weight loss but the crushing heat and… everything?… has led to a tendency toward snacking again. First with almonds, then an evening cocktail. Sunday night I didn’t have the strength to eat a proper dinner so I had some nuts and some peanut butter pretzels in measured portions, and then a single serve bag of potato chips because I still felt weak and my sodium levels for the day were still garbage. And at that point I finished off the brownies. And last night, I skipped the gym because my joints were screaming and my trainer picked up a cold at work. So, I started with a nice decent, 100-calorie portion of Ritter Sport chocolate stuffed with raspberry rose filling and ate the whole damn bar.
I am pressed for the time to care for myself properly. I lack the financial stability to work less or even to pursue treatments that might help. I’m not “disabled enough” for government support and it’s hard to be in this vague middle zone.
And that doesn’t just apply to people with health issues. It’s hard to be older in our society. It’s hard to be a working parent, and perhaps harder to be a stay-at-home one because so many people either resent you for being able to do that (or don’t think about the sacrifices you make to do it) or look down at you for gaps in your professional resume.
It’s hard to balance your dreams with your job, because despite respect for the enterprising spirit, succeeding in business– especially a small one without capital or experienced backers– is hard. It’s hard to be young. It’s hard to be poor. It’s hard to be uneducated.
That’s one good thing about a mass facility shut down like the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy. We can also talk about how hard it is, how sad we are, and how so much of this whole situation just sucks.
So, I hope today is a good day. Or at least better than yesterday. Because yesterday was so hard I almost cried at my station, table 18 in women’s QC. The humidity in the warehouse was stifling. I couldn’t keep up– in part because my support team did not meet my accommodation’s 100%. There were four people on the support team. One did he best but didn’t normally do that work and it took him half the shift to remember my accommodations. Then, due to his physical conditions, he didn’t always get all the items for me. I know he didn’t see them.
Another person just didn’t do them. This person tends to skip them, yet does them reliably for another person who has asked for the same accommodations as mine for a temporary situation. I worked next to this person the last time she was in this situation, and she managed to do all her work with an hour to spare and now she spends a lot of time in the bathroom and wandering around talking to people. She’s even made comments about my work performance.
Which makes me ask, to no one of course because who wants to be that jerk, if the point of reasonable accommodations is to allow a worker with a disability to perform at the same level as an employee with no such limitations, why are others given the same accommodations as me but yet have time to spend playing on their phone (I have seen so much TikTok), having long conversations not even at their stations, and slipping into the breakroom for extra rest?
I was told I could do what I needed to do as long as I met my numbers. Many of these other people are high performers who are very good at their job. I am also good at my job, but my body just cannot bend and move with expediency. So, I have to spend my “bad days” working as hard as I can and pushing until my joints scream to maintain numbers, because I cannot use my medical leave unless my numbers are firmly at 100% or I will be penalized, a.k.a written up and put on a probation of sorts. I worked so hard yesterday… my numbers hovered at 98% most of the day, so I couldn’t even use my approved medical leave.
That hurt mentally and physically.
When I first received my accommodations, I was placed at table 18 at the back of the line so the support team could leave me all the boxes coming out of the refix department (work that needed to be done over for one reason or another) and then share that work with anyone else who might have similar needs.
That stopped. I was told at first it was because there wasn’t enough work. Then it was because they were afraid I couldn’t finish it all. But I’m really thinking it’s because the other workers complained. And I wouldn’t care– but I’m struggling. And it’d be really nice to be able to go to work without wondering what I will endure and how much it will hurt.
And for the record– I usually do between 105% and 110% when my accommodations are met.
And I only got accommodations after the company switched from a weekly performance average to a daily accounting. I typically meet 100% per week, but usually once a week or so, I can only hit 95%. So after two years and several shift changes, my employer changed how I had to do my job. I used to be able to do it without accommodation.
In roughly nine weeks, I will lose my job. I have been with Stitch Fix more than 2.5 years, and in that time, the people I have worked with have allowed me to grow, grieve, learn and be who I am.
And I thought I was holding up well against the stress of losing my job, with more debt than savings thanks to some life situations and my recent medical issues. But when you receive the email that lists your personal separation date, that makes it real.
September 15. Some of my friends are looking at a week before, another a week after. One person I know with 2 more years of tenure with the company has a Friday October 13th separation date. I am sooo jealous, primarily because it’s the perfect day to lose your job. But even beyond that– you could spend the whole weekend watching horror movies to commemorate the event.
Right now I am stunned. I haven’t read the copious amounts of paperwork. I’m not ready. I’m just going to be sad. It was a hard, hot day and my body didn’t want to cooperate. Luckily, Nicole Jensen of Back in Line Chiropractic and Wellness Center could make my feet and legs do feet and legs things.
Meanwhile, if anyone needs any projects done by an awesome writer and editor, get in touch.
Please do not expect this blog entry to tell a smooth story or to make sense. I don’t even know what will flow out of my fingers as I type this now. I did not plan anything special for this post, nor did I intend to miss nearly two weeks of writing.
After mere days of tracking my sodium and “eating normally” as the dietician suggested, my constant lightheadedness and episodes of low blood pressure significantly decreased. My physiatrist (who is also a neurologist, you may recall) saw me last Thursday afternoon for my post incident follow-up. She’s excited about my approval for the service dog, sorry that I’m losing my job, has promised to buy Not an Able-Bodied White Man with Money, and she and her nurse both appreciate the way I advocate for myself and try to do as much as I can to improve my body and my health.
Speaking of which, tracking food had led me to discover that when “eating normally” I was only getting 1500-1800 mg of sodium AND drinking 100 ounces of water in the humid, hot warehouse. I can only imagine how little sodium I was eating while sticking to “heart-healthy,” “low sodium” choices. And it might explain why I really love me a bag of salty potato chips.
The physiatrist and I had a lovely conversation about B-vitamins, apparently she’s low and had to start getting B12 shots so I mentioned that I sprinkled nutritional yeast on everything. She googled it and she plans on buying a jar.
The teenager also asked me to organize her bookshelf, a calming activity that brings me much satisfaction.
In a future blog, I hope to write The Saga of the Quail, now that the birds have gone home and I can no longer get in trouble for illegally housing game birds in a residential area.
Somewhere in the last two weeks I deadlifted 120 lbs– which is three-quarters of my current body weight.
And the “tube” to the outdoor kennel the teenager built for the cats has been popular.
She even put a cat door leading from the porch to the kitchen so the cats have access 24/7. Touch of Grey, our foster with a hysterical and sometimes volatile personality, has made the back porch/mud room her new domain.
I had a mental health therapy appointment and will have a job coaching session next week. Speaking of which, we are having a Women’s Outbound meeting at work on Monday and everyone is having their break after regardless of whether we normally break at this time. I’m guessing Stitch Fix has either decided our official end dates or they will be announcing more information regarding when and how we will receive this information.
We had a massive pot luck yesterday at work for our team and another roster, and I ate so much food I didn’t eat again for 24 hours.
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.
Angel Ackerman 