Adulthood has shown me that some feelings are near-universal — so too is the sense that you’re the only one experiencing them. This is especially true about the angst I’ve felt around bathing suits. It all just feels wrong: If the problem isn’t that my body has changed proportions, then it must be that the nylon has been shrinking or expanding while sitting in my sock drawer for 10 months out of the year. Most swimsuits I’ve worn have made me feel one of those big salamis at an Italian deli, all wrapped up in crisscrossing rope and twine. Growing up, it seemed like other girls’ bikinis clung to their bodies’ curves and angles just right. I felt like the only one aware of the elastic’s strong hold on my thigh. However, when I came out as queer and developed relationships with people in the LGBTQ+ community,
When a large part of your job is essentially shopping online and hunting for the best, trendiest and cutest clothes, jewelry and accessories, it can prove extremely difficult to stick to a budget. As a fashion editor, I frequently find myself adding way more to my digital shopping carts than I could ever actually afford. But this summer I’m committed to setting a shopping budget at $250 and actually sticking to it.
This involves much more planning and thinking honestly about the things I need (versus the things I simply want), but that’s just a part of the fun. Some pieces on this list were easy to settle on—like a new pair of bike shorts—while others were harder to pick, like whittling down which of the 40 summer frocks I’ve been lusting after are worth investing in. I knew I’d also want to throw in some bright statement accessories, but