I know next to nothing about Tilda Swinton, beyond portions of her acting resume. But the suits she's busted out recently at Cannes make me wish her life was more of an open book (one probably called, as you'll see, something like Suits Me! or Just Jackets!, exclamation points required).
Because I want to know more. I want to see what she sees when she looks into her closet. I want to understand.
I would suggest that she borrowed this from Prince's closet, but she is almost 5'11" and even though the pants are hemmed a touch high, they'd be shorts if this had belonged to He Who Was Once Not Named. It might have once been worn by a member of Duran Duran. Either way, it would appear Tilda wanted very much to give off the impression of 80s glam-rock androgyny (which, given that her resume involves a lot of gender-bending roles in the early going, makes some amount of sense). That might warm my heart -- everyone loves Duran Duran! -- were it not for the hideous brown plastic shoes that look like rejects from the Jessica Simpson Collection of a year ago.
However, that outfit is a wave of sleek splendor compared to the next one.
Either this is an homage to your 1976 prom date, Artie Poindexter, or Tilda is picking up some extra scratch by ripping people's tickets as they head inside for the movie. Although the more I stare at this, the more I wonder if she's a second away from snapping her fingers and trying to woo you with the kind of oily earnestness you'd only see from an experienced lounge lizard.
Regardless, it's proof positive that you can indeed violate the mighty tuxedo; we can only pray Intern George (hope you're having fun over there!) did not walk up to her and request the name of her tailor.
