What else is there to say? It’s Solange! Solange is the new SWINTON. Honestly, Solange might be more SWINTON than SWINTON ever was; she might be what we always wanted SWINTON to be. What SWINTON turned up to 11, Solange turns up to 15. Those pants are frumpy and stumpy, the shirt is not outrageously flattering, and the cummerbund looks like she carved up a leather odds-and-ends tray from Mark & Graham that used to live on her nightstand. It’s objectively a terrible outfit, but somehow — and maybe it’s the sharp platinum hair — she makes it very difficult to imagine looking at anyone else in this room. I may not think that outfit is an attractive form of wacky, but it sure is an arresting one.