Last night I dreamed I went to a party and was wearing Lady Gaga‘s infamous meat dress. I don’t know why, in my dream, I thought this was appropriate attire — it was a kid’s birthday — but I did. Of course, Gaga was kind enough to let me borrow it, because in my dream we were best friends or something.
Although I was mildly concerned that the “meat” thing had already been done and I was just trying to be as cool as Gaga, I still slipped myself into it and off to the party I went. I also didn’t bring a gift, which is also odd and rather rude. Perhaps I thought my presence and my “meat” was enough of an offer? I’m not sure.
With food on the brain this morning, I decided to see what other options I might have if I should decide that I want to make wearing food my “thing.” I’d never be hungry because I’d have my outfit to keep me full and I’d always be the star of any room I walked into forever.
I was surprised by how many options I’ll have to choose from should I make this my new way of dressing myself.