Winona Dimeo-Ediger

You deserve to be happy just as you are, and that extends to the clothes you put on in the morning. I’m so glad you’ve decided to buy some clothes that fit and make you feel fabulous and stylish. Even if it’s just a few new pieces, it’s going to make such a difference in the way you look and feel.

Welcome to the Proud Coven of Secondhand Shoppers, my dear! I’m sorry your entry into our well-dressed, eco-friendly, budget-abiding coven wasn’t a happy or voluntary one, but now that you’re here, let me assure you that thrifting is not scary or gross, and in fact can be super-fun.

Here's what I want to ask the guy who used this airplane bathroom right before me:

1. Dude, seriously?

Have you guys tried those “adult” Lego sets? They’re not “adult” in, like, a “build your own dildo” way (although I’m sure that’s a thing on eBay) but in a “you follow instructions that are probably too advanced for your 3-year-old nephew to follow and feel super smart and accomplished when you put the final piece on the top of your small-scale replica of the Eiffel Tower” way.

Unflattering work uniforms are the WORST. I understand that office dress codes and work uniforms serve a purpose (creating a unified image for staff, signaling your role to customers/guests, protect your personal clothing from workplace messes, blah blah blah) but why would a company feel the need to subject their employees to a boxy corduroy vest?

I’d been so busy patting myself on the back for conquering my big fears, I failed to acknowledge that the types of things that scare me had shifted. A lot of the obvious stuff didn’t bother me anymore — but what about all the smaller, more personal things that still scared the living shit out of me?

If the weather has you cooped up with your partner, here's how to cope and bond instead of snap and split.

The side effects of weight loss are not—gasp!—all positive.

Old friends make it possible to conduct entire conversations in inside jokes, like a secret code you’ve taken 15 years to hone.

How does that old cliché go? “Love is not a noun, it’s a verb”? Loving your body is a verb. It’s an action — and in many ways it’s a sacred and defiant one.