Winona Dimeo-Ediger

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 call this happiness by proxy

All the skimpy clothes that come along with this time of year give me anxiety.

The thing is, we soak in these body-judging lessons from a very young age, before we even know how damaging they are. Some of the messages are implicit, like when we see a fat girl getting made fun of on the playground (or, for many of us, when we are the fat girl getting made fun of on the playground) and learn that being fat is not just wrong, it’s a punishable offense.

Make a u-turn into the darkest recesses of your psyche. Wonder about your life purpose: Were you put on earth to stare at computer screens and pay bills and die? Cringe while imagining what your idealistic college self would think of you now. Conclude that your life lacks creativity and meaning and simple joys.

You, dear senators, have been busy trying to bring about the apocalypse, which doesn’t leave a lot of time for self-care.

Toss back half a bottle of merlot while watching “Daredevil.” Pause it for a pee break. Glance in bathroom mirror, notice bangs are getting slightly unruly.

One of the best things that happened when I downsized my wardrobe was that I finally felt like my clothes were working for me, not vice versa. I wasn’t constantly stressed about the mess in my bedroom from clothes that didn’t fit in the dresser. I no longer had daily freakouts about what to wear while staring at an overstuffed closet. I had a nice selection of clothes that served me well.

Winona,

Instagram: Don’t eat it though, just hold it. With a stiff, outstretched arm in front of a whimsical mural on a decaying brick wall.