Winona Dimeo-Ediger

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

1. Dude, seriously?

I grew up way out in the country, and lying in bed at night I used to gaze out my window and think, “Maybe someday I’ll live in a cool apartment in the city where I can walk to stuff.” That was literally my big dream of far-off adulthood.

Including: public transit inversion pose and heart-opening "shut up, mom" pose.

Dear Winona, I’m addicted to black. Exhibit A: my closet. Am I fashionably lazy? Or is it because it just goes with everything—mainly me?

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

Our resident aesthetic ace—with an assist from Drake—offers fashion advice to our Canadian writer Anne, who's sick of the cold and her clothes.

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.

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.

While buttoning my pants today I found to my dismay / that my skinny jeans get skinnier with every passing day. / For the past few months, in fact, I’ve watched with shock and wonder / as my stomach’s gotten softer and my thighs accrued more thunder.

I call this happiness by proxy