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Dude, I had an awesome dream last night. Involving James Bond. Sort of.
Anyway, in my dream I was a female, gay, cross-dressing James Bond. Nobody knew I was a woman except for my (male) tailor--because you can't fool a good tailor--and the tailor's hot female assistant (because you need Bond Girls, apparently). I owned two suits, one a most excellent, perfectly tailored, expensive black suit, and another one. For the other suit, I told the tailor to give me the worst suit he had and the worst tie he had and to tailor the suit so it looked badly tailored but was in fact tailored to allow me to do lots of martial arts and such.
The reason I, James Bond, needed this suit was because I was undercover. The Joker was running a casino in a high-rise building, and of course it being the Joker, nefarious doings were happening. I managed to obtain a job as a high-ranking security person there to infiltrate the establishment and Do Stuff. Alas, my dream was far more concerned about the suits than the plot, so I cannot tell you what was going on there.
In addition to the tailor's assistant, I also had a hot female assistant because you can't have a Bond without at least two Bond Girls, apparently. At the end I met her in a cafe in the high-rise next to the Joker's casino, at which point she inexplicably changed into Toby, which didn't faze me one bit, and I explained to her/Toby how to get out of the situation as Stuff Was About to Go Down. I was in my good suit now and gave her/Toby the awful one, and told her/him to take it to this one pawn shop and pawn in. She/he would receive a large triangular token*, which s/he was to bring to the tailor, who would redeem it for cash, which s/he was then to use to get the hell out of Dodge.
Aaaand then I woke up. Too bad it didn't last longer!
So there you go. My chance at being a glamorous international spy and my subconscious worries about the clothes more than anything else. Well, I suppose it also worries about getting innocents out of the line of fire, way more than Bond typically does.
I quickly emailed myself notes on this dream as I knew I'd forget them if I went straight back to sleep, and I went into a dream where I'd accidentally sent the notes I'd made to the magazine The Economist instead of to myself, and they thought it was amusing and posted it on their website and people were making comments on it. I woke up enough to realize (and be relieved) that I couldn't possibly have done that for real because I don't have The Economist's email address in my contacts.
Here's my 4AM phone typing:
* Pink triangle. How appropriate.
Anyway, in my dream I was a female, gay, cross-dressing James Bond. Nobody knew I was a woman except for my (male) tailor--because you can't fool a good tailor--and the tailor's hot female assistant (because you need Bond Girls, apparently). I owned two suits, one a most excellent, perfectly tailored, expensive black suit, and another one. For the other suit, I told the tailor to give me the worst suit he had and the worst tie he had and to tailor the suit so it looked badly tailored but was in fact tailored to allow me to do lots of martial arts and such.
The reason I, James Bond, needed this suit was because I was undercover. The Joker was running a casino in a high-rise building, and of course it being the Joker, nefarious doings were happening. I managed to obtain a job as a high-ranking security person there to infiltrate the establishment and Do Stuff. Alas, my dream was far more concerned about the suits than the plot, so I cannot tell you what was going on there.
In addition to the tailor's assistant, I also had a hot female assistant because you can't have a Bond without at least two Bond Girls, apparently. At the end I met her in a cafe in the high-rise next to the Joker's casino, at which point she inexplicably changed into Toby, which didn't faze me one bit, and I explained to her/Toby how to get out of the situation as Stuff Was About to Go Down. I was in my good suit now and gave her/Toby the awful one, and told her/him to take it to this one pawn shop and pawn in. She/he would receive a large triangular token*, which s/he was to bring to the tailor, who would redeem it for cash, which s/he was then to use to get the hell out of Dodge.
Aaaand then I woke up. Too bad it didn't last longer!
So there you go. My chance at being a glamorous international spy and my subconscious worries about the clothes more than anything else. Well, I suppose it also worries about getting innocents out of the line of fire, way more than Bond typically does.
I quickly emailed myself notes on this dream as I knew I'd forget them if I went straight back to sleep, and I went into a dream where I'd accidentally sent the notes I'd made to the magazine The Economist instead of to myself, and they thought it was amusing and posted it on their website and people were making comments on it. I woke up enough to realize (and be relieved) that I couldn't possibly have done that for real because I don't have The Economist's email address in my contacts.
Here's my 4AM phone typing:
Gay female cross dressing James bind. Suits--one good. One tacky, tailor knows. As does got female tailor assistant. And other assisseant turn into Toby. Redeem good suit.Stuff Went Down when James Bond was discovered. I forgot about the shoes! I requested from the tailor, and received, shoes that looked like dress shoes but which had really good traction for running. And apparently I was the head of security there.
Joker running casino, job as enforcer, joker only knows new James bind when discovered. Head enforcer.
Tailoring good one well tailored bad one only looks well tailored. Shies that look juke dress shows but with teaction.
* Pink triangle. How appropriate.
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Thank you for sharing. I like the idea of an awesomely bad suit made by the very best taylor.
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Your dreaming brain has interesting priorities.
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... somewhere.
:D
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