I luxuriate in my bedroom. With pure dream logic, I am not at all surprised that everything...the curtains...the sheets...the pillow case...is all made from lingerie.

"I'm so glad they finally thought to do this," I think as I lie in my bed. The manufacturers must have realized that there is nothing as soft and comforting as the silk and nylon of panties and slips. So instead of making sheets and curtains out of other things, they simply went to Vanity Fair...

Oh, my bedsheets are heavenly, they feel so smooth. All around the edges, I see the scalloped pattern of lace. So sweet it is...the sheets are white, and the edges are a soft shade of light pink. The top sheet is a comforter, very plush, but made of this panty fabric nevertheless! I cuddle it close to me. I nuzzle with the matching pillowcase.

Now I am lying on the bed, the top sheet bunched along the sides, like a lace nest.

I am wearing the same kind of silky fabric as my sheets. My bra, which seems to encase real, lovely breasts, has smooth white cups that are very full, and there is pink lace all across the top edges, spilling across the tops of my breasts.

I don't know whether I have falsies on, or they are real breasts. The bra fits me so well, and is so soft and creamy to look at. And fitting me so sweetly, my white panties with the scalloped pink edges on the leg bands. My legs are smooth, long and lovely.

"In the warm room...in the warm room..." there is a whispered voice singing, over the speakers. Speakers built into the walls? I don't know this tune, or this ethereal voice, but I love it. I notice the curtains now. They are, I'm sure, made from slips. They might indeed just be oversized slips.

Like a little child looking up at mother who wears a long, long slip with lace on the edge, I find myself looking up at the mansion-sized windows that have the two beautiful white lace slips on either side. These curtains are so lush. So many folds of soft fabric. At the bottom edge, it's like a ballerina's tu-tu. There is so much frothy lace!

This is my secret bedroom, I decide. I can't let anyone in to see it. This is my girl room, where I'm safe, and it will have stuffed animals and dolls and everything will be pink and pretty. I think, I'd better keep this door locked. I wouldn't want anyone to see that I sleep in a bed of panty-lace, and the curtains are big, soft lace slips...

I go to the window and think that I'd like to wrap myself in one of these lovely slips. I wonder where my linen closet is, and whether it has so many pretty things folded in it, all warm from the laundry, all smelling sweet. I wonder where my closet is, where everything pretty is on hangers waiting for me.