‘Tis the season of bar bathroom tear-offs– your golden opportunity to cuff a Barnard College Wife™.
The Barnard College Wife™, sourced locally from Liz’s, is the perfect resource for managing the stressful ins and outs of Columbia life. She breathes! (through her Geekbar) She cries! (while folding your laundry) She accompanies you to JJ’s! (on alternate Monday and Wednesday nights) She lands appropriately scathing jokes about threesomes when you incidentally pique the competing interest of an organically pierced and tatted female… She’s your college girlfriend! Successfully place your order by writing a choice comment under one of her IG ghostposts or gifting her a Trader Joe’s potted hyacinth.
The Barnard College Wife™ package comes with one vegan leather collar, two pairs of handcuffs, and six separate validating assurances that trying butt stuff does not, in fact, make you gay, but actually decreases your risk of prostate cancer.
(Note: Daily quickies included in our premium plan, along with a Tradwife option if you are craving freshly churned butter in the comfort of your own dorm. Plan does not cover protection from noise or scent complaints incurred by prospective suitemates).
Upon graduation, end your term with Barnard College Wife™ by entering a call phrase:
A. “I’m just not ready for something serious yet”
B. “I feel like we’re going in different directions”
C. “It’s not you, it’s me”
Remind yourself that you’re doing your Barnard College Wife™ a favor by rewilding her back to Hinge. If you spot her bumming cigarettes outside of the Roti Roll on Amsterdam and looking rather blue, don’t feel as though you’ve done something wrong. It’s an expected side effect of the WICMED procedure (Weaponized Incompetence in College Males Eventual Desensitization).
So head to Milstein and snag yourself a Barnard College Wife™ this Valentine’s Day! Carefully curated in the image of the nurturing mother you relinquished to your hometown and fully outfitted with an official Barnard Store thong, our brand-new product is guaranteed to slake your every craving (and crevice) for the next four years– no less, no longer.
Happy cuffing!