The Facebook post read as if it had been written at the ad agency–after not a little deliberation. It was buoyant, enthused, colloquial. “Just received my first StitchFix and loved what they sent! My stylist nailed it! So fun to open up a box of clothes I haven’t seen before and find pieces I loved!” The sense of immediacy (“Just received”), the power words like “fun” and “love”. The swift, subtle way it dismisses a neophyte’s potential hesitation (“my first”). The expertise (“nailed it”). Three authentic exclamation points. Looks like one of those company-crafted sentiments that you click a button to post, a ready-made. But guess what? It was legit. This old friend was just delighted with the StitchFix product and so she posted her delight.
It’s a company’s dream–the holy grail of Internet marketing: an absolutely free organic testimony shared among intimates (such as it is, on Facebook). StitchFix does offer a $25 credit for any customers referred, but that wasn’t the impetus for the post. “I’ve been offered referral money before. But I don’t do that kind of thing unless I think there is broad appeal,” said my old friend. She went on: “I did not have high expectations. I am really picky and was assuming that the selection would either be over-priced or underwhelming or of crappy quality and wouldn’t really match my style. What was so surprising was how closely they came to picking quality items that completely satisfied my style at a price that was reasonable. That the items were not things I have seen everywhere else in stores was also a plus.” Why is one woman’s eloquent, unbiased satisfaction with a personal shopping service important? Because it augurs a sea change, much predicted but slow in coming to the supposedly egalitarian Internet. In the future, there may be no copywriters. They could all be replaced by people, just like the last dinosaurs.
