The same skirt, on your body, in six different cloths. Drag the hem to change its length, pull the slider to change your height, or put the jeans on instead.
The colours tell the cloths apart. The way the hem swings is read straight off the site’s own fibre table: silk and viscose carry a stiffness of 0 and swing nearly four times further than denim, which carries 3. Choose linen and it barely moves, because linen doesn’t. Taller or shorter, your legs keep your own proportion, so the same garment lands somewhere else on you.
I am 161 cm, and every pair of jeans I buy is too long. I put them on, the hem folds over my shoes, and before they have been anywhere at all they need cropping. For years I assumed I was a rare type: one of the few women the clothes were simply never cut for.
It turns out I am close to average. The woman in the product photograph is usually well over ten centimetres taller than most of the women buying from it, and a good part of that difference is leg, which is exactly where a jean is measured.
A jean’s inseam is right there on the product page, usually as the L in its size. The model’s height is there too, in small grey type under the photograph. The one number missing is yours, and the arithmetic between them is the whole of this website.
You give it your measurements, it takes the numbers the brand has already published, and it tells you where the hem will land on you.
It will not stop a pair of jeans being too long. It will tell you, before you pay, by exactly how much.
Every one read against your measurements rather than the model’s.
Which size to take, and how many centimetres to take up.
Three numbers off a product page. It then has a page of its own, for everyone.
What each fibre is like to live with, and why your wool jumper itches.
Summer tailoring is wool, not linen. Here is the reason.
Grading, ease, stretch, and the one place the golden ratio is genuinely in the body.
Brands know all of this already. The reasons they have not acted are kinder than you would think.