Bing!

I've had my Oprah moment - my "I get it! I get uuuuht!" It was like all the sudden - Pop! Like when I suddenly understood the term invagination in biology class. One minute I did not get it. The very next second I did. Suddenly I get Tilda Swinton's style.

I have seen her look like a nightmare. I have seen her look edgy. I've seen her look frumpy. Even once or twice, I have seen her look phenomenal. But that's the thing. She changes it up. She's like the Napoleon Dynamite of fashion - What are you wearing tonight Tilda? "Whatever I feel like. Gawd!"

It's never with apology. And it's never with a "look at me". She wears what she wears. After a certain amount of time, with every whackadoodle outfit, she's rope-a-doped you into submission. She walks the red carpet, pops a pose and it's "I'm freaking Tilda Swinton. I wear whatever the f--- I want. Suck it." And if you don't like it, too bad. It's not like she's following anyone else. You can't say she's doing it wrong. She's doing Tilda. It's absolute genius.

My other fashion realization for the week is: I give up. Uggs will never die. I keep thinking, they've had their moment. They'll just slip away. Like high top Reeboks and hammer pants. Off into the mists of time.

But no. Year after year. There they are. Everywhere you look. They're like cockroaches. Ugly, ubiquitous and indestructable. But obviously, you have a power that is beyond my understanding. And I bow to superior strength. I submit. Uggs, I do not hate you any more. I surrender.