Molly Pennington

Ten days after my first due date came and went, I looked in the mirror, screamed, and basically died. Overnight, my stomach and hips had become covered in cherry-pink stretch marks, veining out as if my entire torso had fractured.

Television has been a pulpit since its invention. And pop culture is like religion in that it can create and govern belief.

I've been checking out Flex Form technology and Radiant designs where I can get Aztec stripes on my tampon wrappers. But what I really need to know is if there is an overnight pad that doesn't have freaking wings attached to it. I hate wings. These flypaper-level stickiness, rip-the-color-off-your-undies flaps should not be called wings.