SWINTON, you festive bag of sass, you.
No, really, you look like a delightful holiday wine sack. If only Santa would pop you down my chimney with a nice tawny port and some reds and whites tucked up in there. We could have a grand old time watching Golden Girls reruns together and discussing whether St. Olaf is the greatest gift ever given to television audiences. Just the other day on Twitter I was laughing over the herring circus scene, and how Bea Arthur nearly loses it and then actually DOES lose it but manages to make it in service of the scene, and I may have shed a little mirthy tear… SWINTON and I would have such a fine old time with that. She’s a gas, I think, and the effervescent dotted froth of this frock is actually her spirit animal. Yes. Let’s go with that.