Arrows are definitely among the most reasonable icons in the Wingdings canon. After all, they can signify direction, which actually has a practical application that, for example, a pictogram of a pair of glasses is lacking. In fact, according to my research, the entirety of the Wingdings 3 character set is pointing one way or the other. Seems like overkill to me, but I’ve also gotten lost in my own apartment.

This arrow is particularly chaotic. She’s definitely confident about and committed to where she’s going, but I’m not totally convinced she’s thought it all the way through. In a nutshell: Aries.

I wouldn’t necessarily associate Taurus with just any candle – it’s this candle specifically that gives me those calming Taurus vibes.

This candle is short and squat - she feels sturdy; dependable. I can tell she’s been burning consistently, probably providing mood lighting. She would look at home on one of those old timey candle holders that old men in nightcaps are always fumbling with when they investigate a strange noise in the night. Taurus definitely found one of those in a flea market and stuck in this beeswax beauty to complete their tablescape. What’s for dinner? It smells good. Is this your grandmother’s recipe?

Although I had to narrow it down to one character, Gemini is best described by all four of the mailbox icons that Wingdings has to offer. The duality of the mailbox flag being up or down is much like the duality of man, in that it is dual.

Let me advocate for this misunderstood air sign. What might appear as a wild change from one personality to another is really just Gemini showing you the two versions of themselves. Much like the humble mailbox, Gemini can be open or shut; flag up or down. What remains consistent is their need for information and communication

As a convicted plant murderer, I am keenly aware yet often incapable of maintaining the sun-water-soil balance required to cultivate a botanical buddy. So too must delicate Cancer be properly nurtured before they can feel comfy enough to express themselves. Ironically, or at least Alanis Morrissette’s definition of ironically, presenting the Cancer in your life with a bouquet might be the exact brand of emotional encouragement they need.

Of course, there’s also the thorns to contend with. Getting stabbed in the thumb certainly reads as passive aggressive when you’re just trying to prune some leaves. Just know that sweet, sweet Cancer isn’t poking you maliciously, they just have defenses designed to protect them against greedy gardeners. Also, have I stretched this metaphor too far?

I cannot stress how much I appreciate the two separate sets of 0-10 in circles include in Wingdings 2. Sometimes just the digits alone don’t cut it! These are perfect for when you need to print out the winning lottery numbers for the retirement community where you volunteer, or illustrate a billiards game in a .doc.

The comparison here is straightforward. Leo is always at a 10: aesthetically, emotionally, socially, theatrically, sonically, spiritually. Since they’re presenting at a 10, they expect you to gibe a 10 of your attention in return. It’s called Leo math. Do a good deed today send give the Leo in your life 10 clapping hand emojis (👏 👏 👏 👏 👏 👏 👏 👏 👏) or 10 thumbs up emojis (👍 👍 👍 👍 👍 👍 👍 👍 👍 👍).

Virgo is symbolized by the virgin, and often misunderstood as strictly chaste, demure, and naïve, which is tricky to reconcile with whatever Virgo you know that is a confirmed fréãk. It’s not that Virgo is persnickety regarding their sexuality, it’s that they are downright anal about whatever it is that they’re doing - even if what they’re doing isn’t considered virginal. In other words, if a Virgo is super into lesbian Turkish oil wrestling, then they’re going to be the most dedicated lesbian Turkish oil wrestler you’ve ever seen.

Virgo really boils down to routine, and these three pages obviously contain whatever Godforsaken routine that might be.

I think it’s pretty clear that the looped square is a perfect symbol of the tenent of Libra – balance, harmony, and beauty. I can also reach in to the bowels of my BFA and interpret the icon’s reflective symmetry as a nod to Libra’s strong desire for a partner. They seek to mirror and to be mirrored. It’s a lot of mirroring all the way around.

Of course, any Mac user will recognize this as the symbol for the command key, Apple’s unnecessarily different answer to PC’s control key. Apple feels like a Libra brand; taking the aesthetically pleasing middle ground between bunko PCs and self-built rainbow gaming computers. And of course, Steve Jobs was a Libra! Actually, he was a Pisces, but wouldn’t that have been amazing if it was true?

Oh God – what is that? Where is it leaking from? And how did it get all over my shoes? This icon has so much time-wasting potential it makes me want to turn off my wifi and open up Word. Changing the color can turn this droplet from nondescription liquid into an symbol for water, blood, or that spooky alien goo from the X Files, all of which are things Scorpios love.

Obviously, this mysterious droplet is everyone’s favorite enigmatic water sign. You might not be sure what she is, but she’s here and she’s seeping through the cracks of your mind. 

Honestly, I’m just a really big fan of this icon and similarly Sagittarius in general. Of course, there’s a comparison ready to be made regarding Sagittarius’s well-documented wanderlust, but looking deeper I think this flag captures the Sagittarian spirit more abstractly.

This Wingding has a great sense of movement that 1. I consider an achievement of illustration and 2. speaks to Sagittarius’s fluidity and freedom. Whomstever might wave a pennant does so to boldly and unapologetically represent themselves – a big Sagittarius mood. Maybe you don’t necessarily always want a flag in your face, but Sagittarius will always be waving it. 

If a Capricorn is reading this, they probably added it to their to-do list first so they could cross if off when they’re done. Capricorns accomplish tasks – they prevail! And while Capricorn might be better represented by the box that’s been X’d out, that would’ve denied these productivity junkies the satisfaction of crossing it off themselves.

Once you get past the need to succeed, you’ll notice that Capricorns have more dimensionality – some shadowy depth – if you will. The truth is, that Capricorns are secretly suuuuuper weird. They aren’t necessarily sinister, just good old fashioned goofballs.

It might please you to know that there are no less than three (3) Interrobangs in Wingdings 2. I honestly have no idea how I was functioning before having access to this.

As an Aquarius, this Very Rare™️ punctuation mark might be the best way I can describe my virtually constant feelings of both shock and intrigue. Some examples: Aliens‽ The recent increase in unexplainable cosmic synchronicities‽ The collective unconscious‽ The very concept of gender‽ The Umbrella Man‽ Keeping Up with the Kardashians‽ I'm so exhausted from a lifetime of exclaiming and questioning.

What is this? Why is it part of Wingdings? What purpose could it possibly serve? Look, you’re asking a lot of questions here. According to my go-to reference and literal life saver Wikipedia, Robert Bringhurst described the fleuron in The Elements of Typographical Style as “horticultural dingbats.” Coincidentally, that’s the name of my new post-punk band. (Check out our new EP, Seeds of Sorrow, on Bandcamp.) These leafy doo-dads perfect for creating a border on the poster for your upcoming communal garden clean up party.

When I look at this festive swoosh, I see Pisces. She’s intuitive, emotionally giving, and spiritual. Don’t ask me to explain it. If you know, you know.