We know Donald throws ketchup bottles. What do you suppose Melania throws? Chanel No. 5? Champagne? Oh, that’s right. She doesn’t drink. Maybe her 25 carat ring? That ought to make a dent in the wall. Melania got very upset, you may recall, when Stormy Daniels was featured in a Vogue photo shoot. Melania called her a “porn who-ker” at least according to Melania’s former BFF, Stephanie Winston-Wolkoff. Now that’s so unfair because Melania was offered a feature story in Vogue, too, but she turned it down. It was the cover or nothing, she demanded, and Vogue said suit yourself. That must have been blistering to the woman who had the hubris to ask CNN for $250,000 to come on and pimp her autobiography. They also declined.
It’s also blistering because Jill Biden, Michelle Obama, Hillary Clinton, Rosyln Carter, Betty Ford, Barbara Bush, Laura Bush, Nancy Reagan, Jackie Kennedy, have all been on the cover of Vogue (Jill twice, Michelle three times) and they’re not even models! WTF! So Vogue still has not extended an invitation to Melania to appear on its cover and from the tone of this review, I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were her,
The White House has unveiled first lady Melania Trump’s official portrait. The sober black-and-white photograph by Régine Mahaux features Trump, the Washington Monument towering over her shoulder, resting her fingers on a reflective black desk and staring down the camera as if to say, “You’re fired.” Indeed, Trump looked more like she was guest starring on an episode of The Apprentice than assuming the role of first lady of the United States.
Trump’s clothing certainly didn’t help the boardroom pastiche. The first lady wore a black Dolce & Gabbana tuxedo jacket with satin-trimmed lapels over a white button-up, which she paired with a Ralph Lauren cummerbund and trousers. The choice to wear a tuxedo—as opposed to a blazer or blouse—made Trump look more like a freelance magician than a public servant. It’s perhaps unsurprising that a woman who lived in a gold-encrusted penthouse, whose fame is so intertwined with a reality-television empire, would refuse to abandon theatrics—even when faced with 248 years of tradition.
The photograph is noticeably more toned down than her 2017 White House portrait, also taken by Mahaux. Unlike the new black-and-white image, Trump’s first portrait was in color, featuring the first lady—face airbrushed into oblivion—wide-eyed, smiling with a hint of teeth, her arms crossed to display a massive diamond wedding ring. This time, while the portrait remains more subdued, the Trumps are displaying wealth not through diamond rings but through the coterie of tech CEOs who sat in the front row at the 2025 inauguration, whose combined net worth was over a trillion dollars.
And not only were the tech bros there but Lauren Sanchez was in the front row with fiance Jeff Bezos, (while members of Congress were out in the weeds somewhere) wearing a blazer over a corset, even though it was so cold outside that Trump decided to move the Inauguration ceremonies indoors. Sanchez loves to show up in outfits which shouldn’t be seen outside the boudoir, so I suspect she won’t be asked to grace the cover of Vogue anytime soon, either.
Wearing a tuxedo jacket and cumberbund along with an open necked blouse is pretty Bizarro World in terms of high fashion but then Melania has no chic. She strictly puts on something eye catching. She believes that if the eye is drawn to her, that’s all that is important, when in fact the eye is turned to the grotesque in life as often, if not more so, than it is turned to the striking or the beautiful.
In fact, it’s the nature of the grotesque that you cannot look away. Melania did her portrait as a freelance magician this time, maybe she’ll do an imitation of the Elephant Man the next time she has to sit for a major portrait. Think of how appropriate, GOP, elephants, she could be the Elephant Woman.
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She looks unhappy to the point of being pissed off – about “Bee-ing back in theese place weeth all theese pee-polls all over place. And hav-eeng to deel weeth eee-stir bunee roll-in anf fooking chrees-mus deck-o-ray-shuns again. I thought I was dun weeth all that and could hide out in Nu-York tower an fook my boy-toys eenstead of nego-she-ing how often I must let Dough-nold touch me!”
I’d be pissed if I were her too. But I don’t feel the least bit sorry for her. Most high-end hookers don’t earn anywhere as much as she’s gotten. But she probably assumed Trump’s fat ass would have kicked the bucket years ago. However as my Granny said only half-jokingly about the piece of shit that was her husband after multiple times when it seemed sure he’d die but miraculously survived (and my grandfather, to my everlasting shame) “the Lord doesn’t want him and the Devil won’t have him.”
One tiny nit: it’s Rosalynn, not Roslyn. Otherwise, spot on!
Bring me moose and squirrel!!!! Natasha…I realize you do your best work on your back…but stick to what you know best…changing baby’s depends, and offering the tit to calm him down.