Which sounds more relaxing: mentally untangling the Reddit-thread analyses of any old blockbuster film or turning your brain off completely to binge movies with a pink glitter aesthetic that overcompensates for how bad they are?

During our sophomore year, my friends and I watched “Barbie: A Fashion Fairytale” in the name of boredom and irony. We weren’t fully prepared for the onslaught of commercialized friendship and overly poppy musical numbers that the movie brought us. And we definitely weren’t prepared to not stop watching Barbie movies.

We began getting together to solely watch Barbie movies, and after a year, we had exhausted about 36 DVDs of 2000s-era-and-beyond princess/fairy/mermaid Barbie sagas, each a different version of the titular heroine saving the day with a couple of ditzy friends and irritatingly high-pitched animal pals.

We became addicted to the comicality of winding down after a long week of trying to be academically intelligent with a spree of pink and sparkly nonsense.

What started as a joke quickly became a big part of our lives. We indulged in Barbie conspiracy theories. We know that the production company Mattel re-used the same song in two Barbie movies about princesses, that Barbie’s sisters are more likely her daughters and that the worst movie in existence — which happens to also be my personal favorite — is “The Barbie Diaries,” which we still reference to this day. We may as well start a Barbie fanfiction account while we’re ahead.

We often ask ourselves, why now, when we’re pessimistic, tired high school students, do we consume shameful amounts of Barbie?

Maybe deep down, we live vicariously through Barbie’s perfect adventures, forgetting the pressure to study for hours, and instead just believing in the power of friendship and glitter.

Or, maybe it’s because it’s just funny how Barbie’s hair is animated so that it swivels on her scalp whenever she moves.

Either way, we don’t plan to give up our addiction anytime soon.