A woman should always prepare to win.

Our heroine Sinna is getting into her new role as the costume designer for hit K-pop group 501K. She’s about to meet her Korean cutie, but in this unedited snippet that leaves off from last week’s, we get a glimpse of what a high powered, stylish woman does when given control over five extremely handsome Korean men… 

Oh, and the picture is of actor Gong Yoo. You’re welcome. *winks*

XOXO,

SS

Feeling no time was better than the present, Sinna asked Mr. Big Wig if the members would mind opening their closets to her today.

There was a rumble of blustery Korean, and the translator assured her that was no problem.

“Jon and Saint will be with me, and we will leave the doors open.”

Mr. Big Wig smiled broadly when the translator relayed this and bowed himself away.

“Nicely done,” Jon whispered. “Modest, culturally respectful, just the right amount of feminine charm. Are you sure you haven’t been here before?”

“Quiet, smart ass,” she whispered back, smiling and bowing as she gestured for the group to lead the way.

With the translator at her heels, member by member, Sinna ruthlessly went through their clothes. She asked three questions before she started: What’s your style? Are you committed to turning this group’s image around? Do you want to look your best?

Then she started tossing shit. Discards went onto the floor, and callous to a rag, she walked over them to get to the next thing. In her bare feet it wasn’t as harsh as it could have been, but it was still shocking for everyone except Bik. He was half English, born in London, and he seemed to find her quite refreshing if his broad smile was any indication.

Roommates Tan and Bik were the only ones spared the full Sinna reduction treatment. Their closets were smaller because they had good style instincts, and they cared for their things better than the others. She could tell they purchased more thoughtfully, prioritizing quality and versatility over trends.

“I want all this shit bagged up so that none of it makes its way back onto the rack,” she ordered Jon when they started. “Then, ask Mr. Big Wig if he wants to leverage this purge. We can donate to charity, or the members can sell these things, package it as a treat for their fans, then use the money to buy new things.”

“Got it.”

“Thank you. You,” she turned to Saint when they were done. “Feel like opening some boxes? Some of the shit I commissioned is already here. We can start matching things up with bodies.”

He grinned and rubbed his hands together. “No need to ask me, Sinna-bun. You know I love putting outfits together.”

“You and Jon can deliver things to the boys too,” she decided. “I’ll need to limit my close interactions with them to avoid any situations where things might be misconstrued. Gossip is lethal in this country. So, we have to be doubly cautious. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” her team echoed.

“We’ll work until dinner. Cressida, order us some lunch, and find us a grocery store near the house.”

 

Sinna wasn’t a super big fashion player, but she had an established and respected reputation in the fashion industry as well as a large social media following. All she had to do was post a few photos of the 501K boys and make a few calls to get things rolling. The people who hadn’t called her back yet would soon enough, or they’d regret it.

She had Cressida record the closet purge – the members reactions were priceless – and her trusty assistant was already editing that video for their company YouTube channel. That would be more food for the fashion fire as she pushed it out in pieces via social media. Tommy had agreed to help, and she’d asked the oldest member and leader Hyuk to do so as well so that fans could start watching their idols for changes and reporting on them diligently.

Her strategy for 501K’s style rebirth wouldn’t work without free shit, whether it was clothes or publicity. The high-quality performance fabrics she was ordering for original concert outfits would eat up a good chunk of her budget, and Sinna would rather sell her own shit than go hat in hand for more budget this early in the game.

That’s why she bum rushed her new clients so quickly. This operation was going to be more tightly executed than a military deployment. There could be no loose ends, and ill-conceived streetwear was a dangling thread she’d cut immediately.

“I don’t feel like cooking or shopping. Y’all are on your own for dinner,” she told her team. She’d go out later to shop for breakfast, but she needed to clean up, catch her breath and answer some calls and email.

She grinned when they didn’t want to leave her and firmly waved them off to explore Seoul before she turned toward home. Their house was a little less than two miles away, and Sinna had an excellent sense of direction. She was already dialing to begin business callbacks as she set off at a brisk pace.

She didn’t expect much because of the time difference, but she got lucky with a few people, and seven calls later, she was home. Five calls later she’d showered and redressed in her version of athleisure wear, camo print leggings and a deliberately different shade and print of camo top, with long sleeves. The only skin she usually showed was a hint of cleavage, thanks to a preference for slight v-necks, and her calves. Every blue moon she wore a short skirt, but they were rare. Midi was her preferred length.

Her style had always been modest. Fitted was fine, a lot of skin showing, no. Tommy told her it was a contributing factor in her selection for the gig.

“Mr. Big Wig liked your looks. Said you always look like a lady,” she snickered.

“I do.”

“But you ain’t.”

“No,” she said, laughing with her old friend.

“And who cares?” said the irrepressible Tommy.