Sep 18, 2018
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i’m your barbie girl, in your barbie world / @mgbo
mona doesn’t know why she agreed to this. maybe she’d been drunk. or maybe she’d never agreed at all, and kyung bo had just barged into her apartment claiming she’d been invited by mona herself to sift through the “travesty” that was her wardrobe (bo’s words, not hers -- mona quite likes her ten pairs of uniqlo sweatpants, thanks very much). whatever the case, her current predicament was that she had unleashed a very fashionable, very lethal monster into her holy, fleece-filled sanctuary -- and mona hadn’t the courage to do anything about it. to stop bo in the middle of a clothing purge? did she want her head sliced off by the woman’s perfectly manicured nails? no, thanks.
“bo, this is getting a little out of hand. keep throwing away my pants and i won’t have any left to wear outside!” mona exclaims -- whines, really -- as another of her fleece-lined leggings finds it way into the ‘throw’ pile. “those were perfectly adequate leggings, bo,” she says sternly, unfolding herself from her position on her bed to snatch the bottoms from the top of the ever-growing mountain. “not everyone can afford prada leggings every day, alright? think of my wallet,” she murmurs despondently. “don’t dig too deep, you might find my middle school graphic t-shirts from hell,” she teases, tone kept light. secretly, mona thinks it’d be funny for golden-spoon, ever-pristine bo to come into actual contact with her old target-bought clothes; at the very least, the girl would have heart palpitations and demand hand sanitizer. "are you done now? do i still have clothes left? or do i have to wear this because you've purged everything?"