Shopping the Lewq

A month ago, I got an offer I should have refused.

It was for one of those monthly clothing subscription boxes where you pay a little over a hundred dollars every month, a website creates a "personal styling profile" for you, and then they send you clothes that fit that style.

Now, as a gay man in 2021, clothing is a tricky issue, because while a decent number of us want to look presentable, some of us are theater gays who want to show up everywhere looking like Billy Porter at the Met Gala.

And that is not...easy.

I understand that women deal with a slew of issues when it comes to clothing, but I'm always envious that women's fashion does seem to understand that women do like to stand out every so often, whereas most mainstream male clothing seems designed to have you blend in at a variety of yachting events.

Years ago, I wrote about how men's clothes are also anti-short torso/long legs and how most button-downs seem to be designed for guys above eight feet tall, so I won't return down that road, but suffice it to say, finding interesting clothing has always bothered me.

Oh sure, there are designers who make clothes that stand out, and if you have a few extra thousand dollars to spare, you can look slightly only less intriguing than an extra in a Baz Luhrman movie.

But reader, I want to look like the lead in a Baz Luhrman movie. I just don't want to have to sell my car to do it.

So I not only signed up for the subscription box I got an offer on, I signed on for about six more.

My logic was that most of them had policies where, if I didn't like what they sent me, I could send it all back and get a refund. I assumed most of what I got would be meh, but that at least one of them would send me a few interesting items.

Like most journeys in my life, I set my expectations at "bare minimum" and somehow they still weren't met.

I filled out all the "style profiles" the same way.

Hi, my name is Kevin and I'm a homosexual who wants to show up places and have everyone be envious of how good I look. I need to walk the fine line between "ridiculous" and "unique personal branding that can't be replicated." I never want anyone to be sure where I got any of the clothing that I got, and nothing personal, but in no way can they figure out that I may have gotten something from a subscription service. I'm so sorry. People are horrible, aren't they? But yeah, you need to erase any evidence of your existence as it pertains to the clothing you send me. Bright colors, but I'm also Portuguese and Italian so...maybe varieties of black and grey?  But colorful? By the way, I'm not nearly cool enough to pull off anything Ezra Miller would wear, but that's the vibe I'm going for, so think in terms of a less cool Ezra Miller who is aspiring to be as cool as Ezra Miller. I've also been told I have great elbows, if that helps. Thanks!

My first box arrived.

It had several hooded sweatshirts that were white, off-white, and baby blue with the word "SUPER" across it, which could have either been the brand or the people at the subscription service hoping I would be thrilled to receive something that positive.

There was also a brown belt, a pair of sweatpants, a few t-shirts that ranged from "I would wear this to bed" to "I could clean my sink with this" and a black parka.

I immediately phoned the subscription service and got a nice gentleman on the line, who proceeded to look at what I had requested via my style profile and say, with a tremor of fear in his voice--

"So you don't think Ezra Miller would wear any of that?"

While I do not know Mz. Miller, I felt confident in asserting that had it been sent to their home, they would have set the box on fire.

An agreement was reached to refund me, and we agreed to part ways.

The other boxes were no better.

No matter how many times I said "statement piece" or "outlandish but office-friendly" I still wound up with plaid button-downs and jeans from the late 90's.

When I complained to my more stylish friends that I wanted to receive several high fashion items sent to me every month in a neatly packaged box for only a hundred dollars, the laughter was loud and consistent, leading me to believe that I need new friends.

All this is to say that I'm launching my own subscription service--

The Lewq Box

My plan is to shop vintage stores, Latvian flea markets, and RISD dumpsters, throw six or seven things in plastic bag (boxes aren't cost effective for a new venture like mine), and send it out for the very reasonable price of $99.99 a month.

Will the clothes you get be "good?"

Well, what does "good" mean?

Will they be well-made?

Who knows?

Will they fit you?

They might.

Will they be memorable?

Absolutely.

I will not put anything in The Lewq Box that is not either the weirdest thing you've ever seen or comprised of such blinding colors and patterns that it can only be worn after warning local airports.

By the way, if you're wondering if I'm looking for investors, the answer is "Why yes, I am."

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some dumpsters to dive into.

Because nobody said looking good was easy.