So, how do these algorithms work?

When ads pop up, I can usually figure out why.

I live in sneakers. I walk a lot, and even if I'm just hanging around the house, they're my default. So I go through a few pairs a year. 

I buy good ones - New Balance, Asics, Brooks, etc.  - and I like to have a little fun with colors. So I'm always out there looking to see what colors are on offer.

As a result, a lot of sneaker ads popup.

I get it.

The feet I put in those sneakers are flat. So I'm often grazing around for orthotics or arch-binders or other items to relieve the stress on my poor fallen arches. 

As a result, a lot of arch-y ads popup.

I get it.

One of my clients is an embedded systems engineering company. I'm off and on their website.

As a result, ads for their boards pop up. (Which is too bad because, while I do buy sneakers and arch-binders, I'm never going to be in the market for a system-on module.)

But I get it.

Back to the clothing world, in keeping with the sneaker look, I dress pretty casually, living in jeans, khakis, sweats. Tee-shirts, fleece. I no longer buy a ton of clothing, but a lot of what I do buy is from L.L. Bean.

As a result, a lot of L.L. Bean ads pop up.

I get it.

There are times when you pretty much HAVE to order stuff from Amazon. Silicone lubricant for my treadmill. Speaking of silicone, that silicone Le Creuset handle sleeve. For the new Le Creuset skillet. (Love it. Perfect for making the perfect frittata.) Goody bags and goodies to celebrate Juneteenth at St. Francis House. Etc. 

As a result, a lot of Amazon ads pop up.

I get it.

But what am I to make of the ads the appear with fair regularity, on my Twitter timeline, for Oscar De La Renta gowns, coming through Lyst, a "global fashion search engine"?

Why me?

I'll confess to ordering an occasional pricey sweater from Peruvian Connection.

But, unless I was sleep-searching in the middle of the night, I have never searched for a gown, let alone one that costs over $10K.

Why me?

Where would I wear it? The last fancy evening wedding I went to was maybe 20 years ago. I wore a very nice magenta Duponi silk suit from Talbots. I think I paid about $400 for that outfit, which was plenty. The last fancy day wedding I went to was eight years ago. I can't remember what I wore. Maybe that same magenta Duponi silk suit?

For the two non-fancy weddings I've been to in the past decade, I wore an arty dress from the Artful Home catalog. Which may have cost $200, but probably not even that much. 

But fancy-arse $12,000 Oscar De La Renta gowns, and fancy arse $6,000 Oscar De La Renta day dresses. 

Whoa, baby. Someone want to explain to me how these algorithms work.

(And what's with that dress? You'd have to be about 6'4", and 5' of that 6'4" would need to be leg. How does that work?)

I don't get it.