It was a really banal dream; just a usual format : me trying really hard to do something that is usually easy. Last night it was buying a slip. Yes, apparently I wanted one of those outdated (except in Victoria's Secret catalogues) items of lingerie.
|Yes, this is VS today|
But this is the slip that I wanted:
|downloaded from Dollhouse Bette's|
and I had forgotten the word in french for "lace". You can see how that would complicate things for me.
Taking a page from Dave's Easy French Conversations, I said in French: I am looking for something to wear under my clothes and it has to have very fine work done by artisans at the top and bottom. And I prefer to have the top part and the bottom part the same colour as the middle.
All I got in return was staring of the verging-on-giggling kind.
I went everywhere, including Canadian Tire for some reason, but since I couldn't call up "dentelle" from the french-speaking part of my brain and my listeners couldn't get a picture of what I wanted from what I said, I just couldn't fine one.
When I woke up this morning, I was shouting "dentelle! dentelle!" Dave thought I was saying "Don't tell, don't tell" as we don't usually speak in french to each other in the morning. I decided to leave it like that.