Your fashion editor background is coming in handy analyzing what Mrs. Trump is wearing. What’s she saying with her wardrobe choices?
She’s a first lady who doesn’t really speak, so you have to look at her nonverbal cues. I think a lot of what she wears reflects her flashes of independence: the white pantsuit to the State of the Union address, all those boss-lady coat dresses. I also don’t think she worries about what people think, or about conventions. Her husband seems very thin-skinned, but I think her skin is thick.
Like when she travels abroad, she doesn’t necessarily wear brands from the host country. But she’ll wear something that nods to their culture, like when she was in Korea, she had on a dress that nodded to traditional clothing. And then there was that $51,000 flowered Dolce & Gabbana jacket she wore in Sicily. It was bananas, but she looked like she was in a Fellini film.
And more recently, when Mrs. Trump wore that white hat right before the first White House state dinner, I think she was trying to come out in a very global way. She made the headlines about her, not her husband. That was a custom-made hat, so some thought went into it. I think she was trying to say, ‘I’m the first lady, and I’m going to ace this dinner.’ And then she did.
What do you wear to be on camera or in the White House?
I never go to the White House in anything less than business attire. I wear a lot of black and gray, and accessorize with a funky earring or necklace. But I’m a fashion dork; I might wear a bell sleeve, which is a style Melania favors, on a day she has an event. And I’m often in flat shoes since we have to run around and set up for the first lady very quickly.
The hardest fashion curve for me at CNN is making sure I’m camera-ready at all times. I’ve taken many emergency trips to H&M at Union Station to buy something. I can’t go on [television] in a chambray shirt or loose sweater, which is what I wear on non-camera days.
Any stories from the White House Correspondents’ Association dinner?
It was interesting covering the dinner with the comedian and the hubbub afterwards. There are viable cases to be made all around about how the evening played out. The WHCD can be a strange fever dream, no matter what happens. You get a lot of people in one room, so it’s fun to see colleagues and friends, but also strange to look over your shoulder and spot a Cabinet member or a senator. Gotta love this town.
Besides Melania, who else do you think dresses well in D.C. politics?
I always find [U.S. Rep.] Steny Hoyer [of Maryland] to be impeccably dressed—he’s kind of the silver fox of Congress. And Congresswoman Tulsi Gabbard from Hawaii has such young energy. She’s a surfer girl, but she’s got style. And Sarah Huckabee Sanders is the epitome of a Southern woman in her 30s with her navy dresses and her pearls.
I also think the White House has sartorially changed with this administration. The young women working in it are just more modern. It was interesting to watch Hope Hicks introduce Stuart Weitzman over-the-knee boots to the West Wing.
Ivanka and I have extremely different taste, but she’s really sort of the White House fashion plate. She has paparazzi stake her out every day. Ivanka is this mash-up of a celebrity and a senior White House adviser. That’s reflected in how she dresses. Sometimes she looks like she’s going to afternoon tea in floral prints and ruffles; other times she’s in a suit like she’s going to a meeting in a boardroom. It’s hard to pinpoint her style. Melania definitely has a look, very modern and tailored. But Ivanka, some days it’s X and other days it’s Y.
What’s it like spending many of your workdays at the White House?
We’re herded like cattle, but I just geek out on historic things, like if we’re holding in the East Room, I’ll think, this is where JFK’s body was laid out. Or I’ll walk by the Grand Foyer and remember that’s where Princess Diana danced with John Travolta. I love being a fly on the wall. I also like to take phone photos of things that I think the public never sees: how the butler sets plates down for a state dinner; being in a motorcade on the Beltway; or the menus on the plane when we fly with the first lady.
Are there interesting parts of the White House we don’t see on TV?
I remember the first time I was let down to the ‘secret’ basement below the briefing room, which is basically filled with technical stuff like cables and wires. It’s cool because all the reporters who have been in the briefing room have signed their names on the walls, plus a number of celebrities and political notables. The rule is you can’t say who’s on it. But there are thousands of names on it, pretty much every reporter and correspondent from the past three decades, mine included.
You covered gossip both in Las Vegas and in D.C. Which town is the most scandalous?
I think D.C. is still a kind of juicy town. I’m not sure people think of Washington gossip in the jovial way they did when I was growing up, like the old Washington Post Reliable Source, which felt fun and lighthearted. These days, it’s more like stepping through piles of poop. But I still think there are great moments: the politician who stays too late at the party; the lobbyist who flirts with the waiter; and all the strange characters that emerge with each administration.
Louise Linton [the wife of Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin] is my favorite person right now. She’s so unfiltered and has that rarefied air. So many people answer questions with the party line or something calculated, but not her. Like when someone asked her why she wore those long black leather gloves to tour the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, she said, ‘It was cold in there!’ Linton is sort of a gift.
And I love that in D.C. we can mix more freely than in other towns. In New York City, you’d never spot an East Village hipster hanging out with an Upper East Side socialite. But that’s sort of what happens in Washington. You’ll see an old-guard society person like Ann Hand or Lucky Roosevelt chatting with a young chef or some new artist.
You must have had some great stories and times in Las Vegas. Does anything stand out?
I loved that Vegas isn’t in on the joke. It doesn’t understand its own irony. Strippers and entertainers like Wayne Newton became some of my favorite people to write about. And when the tiger bit Roy Horn [of Siegfried & Roy], I happened to be working at a CBS affiliate. I was actually pretty close to them and thought their show was the best on the strip. But after decades of working with animals, it can happen. It was the end of an era. In some ways I think Vegas is a town like D.C., where it’s a one-industry city. Instead of your subjects being politicians and lobbyists, they’re showgirls, exotic dancers and magicians.
Didn’t you develop a new beauty routine after moving to Las Vegas?
It’s funny, if you look at my headshot from the first sixth months I was out there, and then at another one a few months [later], they’re so different. I’d always been into glossy magazines and beauty. But when you grow up in D.C., if you stick out just a little bit, you stick out a lot. I enjoyed the freedom in Las Vegas to indulge some things that were more normal there: I went a little blonder; I got the occasional spray tan; I got hair extensions. The showgirls and exotic dancers there, they were such experts, and that influenced me. I made myself my own guinea pig, and then I did it in D.C., too, for Washingtonian and Capitol File. Now I say it takes a village to keep my nails, hair and skin looking good. In D.C., some people consider these indulgences, but I don’t.
You’re big into Instagram and Twitter. How do you decide what’s appropriate to post or not to post?
I like to think of my social media accounts as what I’d share with friends over drinks or dinner. I’ll pull out something like, ‘Isn’t Rand Paul’s hair goofy?’ or tweet about how much I love a certain dress Melania is wearing. And it’s gotten so if I post something about her wardrobe with the hashtag #fashiondetective, I’ll get people replying with which designer they think made her outfit. I certainly avoid hyper-political discussions; I think that’s not part of my job. I like my feed to be a refuge from that.
