Winona Dimeo-Ediger

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.

One woman’s frumpy maxi is another woman’s new favorite dress. Gather a group of friends together for a clothing swap.

With the country spiraling deeper into a fascist hellscape on a daily basis, it’s hard to keep track of all the things to be outraged abo

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

Two years ago today, the Rana Plaza building in Dhaka, Bangladesh, collapsed

There is no law that says only certain body types are allowed to wear certain styles of clothing. Nothing terrible is going to happen to you if you opt for a pair of flare jeans that make your thighs look bigger or a maxi dress that visually shortens your already short frame. You will still be gorgeous and unique and worthy of love and respect.

There’s that moment when you’re waiting in line for a buffet when you get a whiff of something funky, and one of your friends is like, “Is that vomit?” and another one is like, “Is it coming from that plant?” and you all shudder, plug your noses, and forget about it 20 minutes later because dude, all you can eat crab!

You’re washing dishes or sorting laundry or grocery shopping, half-listening to a random Pandora station when it happens: Your favorite song from 7th grade starts playing.

Target’s lack of gender signage is obviously a sinful, confusing disaster. You should definitely never shop there again. But just in case you ever need to buy a gift for your kid and Wal-Mart is closed, here are some tips for how to navigate the Godless dystopia that is the new unlabeled toy section of Target:

Basically, if you took a map of the world and put red pushpins wherever something terrible was happening, you’d find a millennial directly in the center, snapchatting.