Marc Jacobs straight in my dreams

Oddly enough, I had a dream last night about designer god Marc Jacobs that didn't involve clothes. I know, I'm baffled too.

In my dream, I was solo at a bar in a Valentino LBD. (WTF?) The bar itself looked like every "Asian-fusion" bar in the world had thrown up on itself; red lights, over-sized fans and white paper laterns, silk embroidered lounge furniture -- the works. I was drinking a girly cocktail. (WTF?! x 100)

While sipping on my cocktail drink in a glass probably from Ikea, I was approached by Marc Jacobs. I played it off like I didn't know who he was. Because I'm cool like that, yanno? (But not really.) He asked me out and I kindly obliged, thinking we'd engage in some gay fashion designer/unsuspecting straight girl activity. A visit to his design studio? A broadway musical show? An invitation to peruse his art collection over wine?

A dream memory lapse later, we're at another bar in a secluded area on our alleged gay fashion designer/unsuspecting straight girl activity. Only, now it's not the gay fashion designer/unsuspecting straight girl activity but a the-gay-fashion-designer-thing-is-just-a-front-designer/completely-surprised-straight girl activity. He's basically spends the night trying to get into my pants. I spent the night projecting my morals and values on him by trying to persuade him to think about his boyfriend and the feelings of the people he's deceived so far.

Oh, the nerve of me.

And there you have my bizarre dream. They don't come often, unfortunately.