In our imagination, this is how we presumed the whole affair went down: "Oh no, please, ask me all of your invasive questions," she quipped with an eye roll to the reporters who swarmed her seat. "Street style? What's that? Some sort of after-school activity?" she'd condescendingly respond. "Print is over! J'adore Dior! Give me feminism or give me death!" she shouted as she performed her latest eight-count of her signature interpretive dance style: le twerque. In another world — or really, in this outfit — we pretend Rihanna is not just one of the greatest quadruple threats of all time, but also a renowned poet, novelist, and playwright who meditates often and lives in seclusion after a life of piracy on the high seas, or something nouveau riche like that.