Winona Dimeo-Ediger

F*ck that noise. Wear a bikini if you want. Or wear a one-piece if you want. Or wear a baggy t-shirt from a Def Leppard concert and knee-length bike shorts if you want. Wear whatever you want. But definitely go to the beach.

I regularly call upon personal saints for help. Really specific ones whose sainthood only exists in my own mind, but they’re very effective. Today I’d like to introduce you to a few of them; feel free to call on them as often as needed.

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.

Like any red-blooded Benedict Cumberbatch fangirl, I’ve totally fantasized about cuddling with him, nibbling on his ear, or maybe breakin

When you’re shopping for shoes for a fancy event, it’s easy to assume that a super high heel is required for a shoe to feel dressed up enough, but that’s not necessarily the case. I’m happy to report that “sensible shoes” and “cute shoes” are not mutually exclusive terms.

scarf virtuoso. entrepreneur. bjork fan.

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

Remember this one time in savasana that the teacher had us visualize all the negative energy in our lives being squeezed out the soles of our feet like a bad vibes garlic press. Imagine my boss’ words as a brown ooze squeezing out of my feet. Imagery is gross but deeply comforting.

Also worth considering: Beyonce on vacation, Prince George, your mom in the '70s.

Dear bikini manufacturers: Not all short, curvy women want to channel their inner Marilyn Monroe.