I can see it now: Ladies’ magazines filled with our new First Lady’s chocolate chip cookie recipe — that she admitted she didn’t bake — as she distributed baskets of cookies to the 5,000 troops that were billeted in D.C.’s freezing garages with two WCs.
As her first gesture, Dr. Jill Biden wanted to personally thank a fifth of the 25,000 troops sent to D.C. following Jan. 6 for “protecting her family.” Not the nation? She must have gotten a memo from the Democratic National Committee about Hillary’s disastrous admission that she wasn’t going to” sit home and bake cookies” as first lady.
Sorry, Jill. Your chocolate chip cookies don’t cut the mustard.
I’m already missing Melania Trump! I’m sure I am not the only fan of the former first lady of mystery, calm demeanor and smarts leaving the last four years of, what has been many times, gratuitous hell, with her gorgeous head held high. Her elegantly casual black outfit was perfect as she walked across the White House lawn to the Air Force One helicopter en route to Mar-a-Lago for one last time.
A few hours later, there was Melania descending Air Force One for the last time in Palm Beach in a stunning sleeveless, calf-length, frothy frock embossed with citrus fruit, blowing gently in Florida’s warm wind, holding her husband’s hand. I could almost hear her whispering to the president, “Finally we’re back among people who love us and appreciate what you’ve tried to do for this nation”.
Not since Jackie Kennedy’s stunning, shocking and all too short reign, have we had a first lady who has managed life like Melania Trump — with style, grace and dignity. Maybe Laura and Barbara Bush, to some degree. Certainly not Hillary. Nor Michele, who flogged her book of victimhood on TV last year. I remember when she posed in pearls and black à la Jackie for her first official portrait. I wish someone had told her: “You’re no Jackie Kennedy,” to paraphrase Lloyd Bentsen’s infamous quip to Dan Quayle during their vice-presidential debate in 1988.
I can’t imagine Melania Trump writing a tell-all book about being a victim of the White House. But I do imagine that Melania thanks her lucky stars that she came to America and became an American citizen the right way, just like so many have done for centuries.
It troubles me that no fashion magazine editor put Melania on a cover, let alone assigned an article on her brilliant sense of fashion. OK maybe, the pith helmet in Africa and the back of that jacket she wore at the Texan border in the first few months were a bit much.
The fact that the cranky, left-wing, fashion media couldn’t even write about the first lady never appearing in the same outfit twice says more about the petty fashion press than Melania’s unquestionable wealth and seemingly limitless clothes budget. Understanding her role and her duty to represent the nation as best she could was the story.
Jill Biden must have fashion editors drooling. Magazine covers will soon feature the new first lady nonstop. Her staff will make sure that we see a “wholesome,” maybe even “virtuous” side (the Bidens have two rescue dogs) of a wife who nods when husband, Joe, says Hunter is the smartest man he knows and has a set of keys, along with Joe, to an office that does business with the Chinese Communist Party.
As I watched Jill Biden hold the Biden family Bible, I couldn’t help thinking that this woman knows that her husband has already lied to Americans about his and Hunter’s involvement with China and Russia and that she, too, is complicit.
Does Jill Biden have her own style? Maybe. But I, for one, will not buy a magazine that has Jill Biden — sorry, Dr. Biden — on the cover. I shall also mute the TV when Jill Biden tries to convince us that her husband does not suffer from dementia as she finishes Joe’s sentences.
I wonder if she, like Rosalynn Carter (who had to be sure Jimmy’s cardigan was buttoned), will attend Cabinet meetings to make sure her husband doesn’t fall asleep. Or if she tries to tell us that her husband is a man of sterling character as he awards with boundless diversity versus earned merit those who leased the most hallowed piece of America’s real estate for the first couple.
Calla Jones Corner
The author lives in Montecito.