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.