Tilda Swinton: High Priestess of Couture (and everything else)

Tilda Swinton first came on to my radar in her portrayal of Frosty the Snow Bitch in the Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. Who is this fierce ethereal creature? I wondered. With her flawless alabaster skin, perfectly androgynous features, white-gold locks any Pantene model worth her hair product would give an arm and leg for as well as her overall whiff of insufferability, playing the Snow Bitch seemed to be a role Tilda was meant to play.

Fast forward a few years (and an Oscar later - hers, not mine, obvz) - and I was beside myself with excitement to see this otherworldly creature play the mother in We Need To Talk About Kevin. The unspoken rule of showbiz is that the movies are rarely better than the book. I can officially declare the film is just as good as the text from which it grew. Perhaps even better. Tilda made that film. And the thing is, playing a suburban mother stuck with a Devil child (shades of Rosemary's Baby much?), the costume department tried to banish her to the sartorial wastelands of frumpy coats, shapeless dresses and varying hues of grey, black and brown, but the uglier they tried to make her, the fiercer her appearance became. She looks like a model without even trying. But when she does bring it ... She. Brings. It. Make no mistake: Bitch is fierce.

Gliding down the red carpet at this year's Golden Globes, you could almost hear the b-grade nobodies almost shriek in despair, pack up their belongings and go home. Who could compete with this?

It really makes me think that Tilda's gay needs to win every award known to mankind. Madonna needs to fire her's and get a hold of Tilda's gay quicksmart.

When Tilda took home the Academy Award in 2008, her date to the occassion wasn't her husband. It was her younger lover, Sandro Kopp, who is about twenty years her junior. They all live together as one, big (happy?) family. With her kids. In an interview she gave recently, Tilda said that her Oscar stood on the kitchen table for two weeks without a remark from anyone else. She has forbidden TV from her home, so her kids don't even know what an Oscar is. An Oscar. There is, I believe, just a bit of prestige tied to those things. It's not a Logie, Tilds.