File this one under, “People We Love, Who We’ve Missed Lately While She’s Been Off…Doing Whatever It Is SWINTON Does In Her Off Hours, Which Is Surely Awesome and Also Weird.”
[Photo: Splash News]
If it weren’t for the fact that the bit of interest on her shoulder looks a wee bit like a little glove, sneaking down her bodice to cop a feel, this would be almost…BORING. I am sure SWINTON is totally normal on her off-hours, but the fact remains that I like to imagine that she’s at home wearing a latex catsuit to scrub her grout, or a skirt made of bananas to shovel her formal wear through her clothes press. (I imagine SWINTON has a clothes press, like someone in Little Women — although I also like to imagine that Swinton would have stabbed Amy March for burning her manuscript. Of course, I also think that Swinton would never have allowed Laurie to marry AMY of all people. Judging from the fact that she’s now living with both the father of her children and some young boy toy, I suspect Swinton would have made a very satisfactory Jo March indeed. And that marks the second time in as many weeks that either Heather or I have waxed poetic about Little Women, to which I say: that book is VERY INFLUENTIAL in my life. I took a class about American Women Novelists whilst I was at UCLA and the most spirited conversation we had all quarter was about how PISSED we all were that Amy ended up with Laurie and Jo married snoozeville Professor Bhaer. I mean, don’t marry Laurie if you don’t want to, Jo, but at the very least, CHOOSE YOURSELF. The entire conversation went entirely off topic, in fact, much as this post has, but that’s what happens when you have 45 book-loving English majors in one place, all of whom have been stewing about the INJUSTICE of this for approximately 20 years.) What on earth was I talking about? Oh, yes. SWINTON. I think she looks rather nice, truly.
@sarahonadiet DAMN IT THERE ARE PROCEDURES!!! - J
Golden Globes SWINTON Carpet: SWINTON
Twitter has been awesome for many things, and this is one: At the first SWINTON sighting on the the telecast, we received about fifty simultaneous tweets from people shrieking, “SWINTON!!!!” Because they knew we’d be doing the same thing. It was like a hug. A hug made of fug.
This photo is one unholstered pair of finger guns away from Nirvana. Because I am not sure if that’s a button-down tucked into a canary satin bridesmaid dress skirt, or if they are sewn together. And I totally don’t even care. It’s all SWINTON. She’s like, “You do not even know how to handle me. And that is how I like it.” Seriously, if Leighton Meester was clad as the fancy sister-wife in the house, then SWINTON is clearly in costume as the all-knowing First Wife who is totally hip to your needs; confident enough in her awesomeness that she doesn’t have to flash her goods at their communal man-candy because she knows that HE knows she — much like Tony Danza — is the boss; and also is totally not afraid to get up in your grill about remembering to do the shopping or that it’s your turn on Latrine Duty or that you are falling down on the job when it comes to home-schooling your kids in math. She’d be perfect: You’d never want to let her down, but you’d also be able to go to her and be all, “Dude, I am really sick of this braid, it has GOT TO GO.” And she’d be like, “I hear that,” and pull out the hedge clippers and hand you a beer.
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