No More ModCloth

As a woman of a certain age (i.e., mid-twenties), it’s hard to escape from ModCloth. Or at least that’s been my experience. Its ads are plastered all over my Facebook homepage, its pins are scattered throughout my Pinterest dashboard, its tweets and tumblr posts are retweeted and reposted, and its devotees seem to be everywhere.

I’ve been a ModCloth evangelist in my day. I’ve recommended the site to friends, subscribed to the newsletter, and, of course, bought stuff. I spent a good deal of my college years in ModCloth ensembles. As an indie type with occasional vintagey leanings, it’s never been difficult for me to find items there that satisfy my particular style(s). I have a certain little black Lovely Day dress bought there that makes me feel incredibly sexy every time I put it on. I get it.

But there has always been a common theme with my ModCloth purchases, save for the Lovely Day dress (which I only ever wear once or twice a year): they disintegrate. Or break. Or fall apart. Or pill and wear like crazy. Or don’t fit like they’re supposed to. I’ll admit, in my lust for all things kitschy and quirky, I may have occasionally purchased sizes or styles that don’t work with my frame, but that’s no excuse for low quality and poor construction. And that’s exactly what ModCloth is: cute cheap(ish) crappy stuff.

A few examples from over the years:

  • A navy ruffle-front cardigan that developed a hole in the armpit within a few months.
  • A pale blue off-the-shoulder dress that came with loose threads flying from all of the seams.
  • A pair of (not inexpensive) faux-leather riding boots that developed literal holes in the heels by the end of their first winter.
  • A pair of patterned tights that were running by the end of their first day on the job.
  • A sweater billed as “supersoft” that had the texture of bargain-bin toilet paper.

And, most egregiously (and still hanging around in my closet, and I know, I know, I should have returned them, but I still have some delusional hopes of fixing them): a pair of adorable blue suede flats that broke within forty five minutes of my putting them on for the first time. At that point, all I had done with them was walk outside my apartment, climb onto the bus, sit for a twenty-minute bus ride, walk into my office, and sit down at my desk. This was obviously just way too much for the shoes.

So cute. So charming. So broken.

So cute. So charming. So broken.

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Shoesday: Autumn in the Air (or, Oh What A Boot-iful Morning)

A photo of the brown bootsIt’s finally beginning to feel like fall here. For the past week, the neighborhood streets have been covered in little bright-yellow leaves, and the trees are beginning to ombre their way toward reds and golds. After days of warm weather and sunshine that clashed with all the visual signals of changing seasons, I woke up slowly this morning to see my boyfriend, the earlier riser of the two of us, buttoning a flannel shirt for the first time since the early spring.

“Ohhh, heyyy, flammel,” I said, eloquently, because I was still two-thirds asleep.

“Yeah,” he responded. “It’s cold outside.”

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