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The all new 50 Books Challenge!
Title: Melania and Me: The Rise and Fall of My Friendship with the First Lady by Stephanie Winston Wolkoff
Details: Copyright 2020, Simon and Schuster Inc
Synopsis (By Way of Front Flap): "WHAT MELANIA WANTS, MELANIA GETS
The former director of special events at Vogue and producer of nine legendary Met Galas, Stephanie Winston Wolkoff met Melania Knauss in 2003 and had a front row seat to the transformation of Donald Trump’s then girlfriend from a rough-cut gem to a precious diamond. As their friendship deepened over lunches at Manhattan hot spots, black-tie parties, and giggle sessions in the penthouse at Trump Tower, Wolkoff watched the newest Mrs. Trump raise her son, Barron, and manage her highly scrutinized marriage.
After Trump won the 2016 election, Wolkoff was recruited to help produce the 58th Presidential Inauguration and to become the First Lady’s trusted advisor. Melania put Wolkoff in charge of hiring her staff, organizing her events, helping her write speeches, and creating her debut initiatives. Then it all fell apart when she was made the scapegoat for inauguration finance irregularities. Melania could have defended her innocent friend and confidant, but she stood by her man, knowing full well who was really to blame. The betrayal nearly destroyed Wolkoff.
In this candid and emotional memoir, Stephanie Winston Wolkoff takes you into Trump Tower and the White House to tell the funny, thrilling, and heartbreaking story of her intimate friendship with one of the most famous women in the world, a woman few people truly understand.
How did Melania react to the Access Hollywood tape and her husband’s affair with Stormy Daniels? Does she get along well with Ivanka? Why did she wear that jacket with “I really don’t care, do u?” printed on the back? Is Melania happy being First Lady? And what really happened with the inauguration’s funding of $107 million? Wolkoff has some ideas..."
Why I Wanted to Read It: During a brief lull between far more serious (and a bit depressing, if still very worthwhile) reads, this turned up. I always enjoy behind-the-scenes type of memoirs of the White House, even if it was... well, this particular White House. And who could forget the infamous leaked audio recordings of the then-First Lady shrieking "Who gives a fuck about Christmas?" which will surely go down in history far more interestingly as a First Lady quote rather than "Just say no!"?
How I Liked It:
This book is a first for this Challenge. We are currently in the third year of the Challenge, and in the past two and three-quarters plus years, I've reviewed works of fiction that contained bigoted elements, including particularly vile ones. I've reviewed memoirs that promote troubling outlooks, I've reviewed journalistic coverage that has overstepped some journalistic boundaries, and I've even reviewed other White House memoirs, including one from Laura Bush that's full of some staggering and outrageous falsehoods. Never for any of those did I wonder if maybe they shouldn't appear on this blog.
But this is a memoir from someone who personally helped one of the most dangerous and vile Presidential administrations in at least the past century, and unlike George W .Bush, there's a chance the President detailed in this book could run again, and certainly, at the very least, his influence is still felt over his party, to the point where it's bled several lifelong, die-hard Republicans who have decided he's finally the last straw for them.
This isn't by a long shot the only turncoat from that administration who's turned their story into a book deal both to make money and to try to exonerate themselves in the public eye, which has honestly become something of a cottage industry at this point.
In the end, though, this book has been out for nearly two years as of this writing, and was a national bestseller, in part thanks to the author's amusing/deeply unflattering secret audio drops of the then-First Lady. It doesn't really matter whether I review it or not, attention-wise. But even with that in mind, how exactly does a "does this compromise my ethics?" cloud hanging over one's head effect their reading of a book? Let's find out!
Wolkoff opens with perhaps one of the most infamous lines the 45th President ever said, his personal description of sexual assault (REMINDER: the 45th President has been accused of sexual assault by at least 25 women and girls, including a 13-year-old girl) caught on the Access Hollywood bus.
Wolkoff reflects that that's not the Trump she knew, and a bit of her own history of sexual harassment. She meets with Melania for lunch and they laugh about it, although Wolkoff expresses concern for Melania and her son.
After that chapter, the book flashes backward in time to roughly 2003, meeting Melania Knauss while working at Vogue. She gives a recap of their pre-White House friendship, including Melania's wedding, and giving a bit of her own history and story.
She roots for her friend to become First Lady and pledges to help her when she does. But Wolkoff runs into challenges seemingly everywhere even before her friend enters the White House. From other aids, from the President-Elect's staff, from the soon-to-be First Daughter Ivanka (who both Melania and Wolkoff refer to as "Princess") who according to the author really has it out for her stepmother, to a seemingly uncaring and vicious press, according to the author, everyone had it out for her First Lady. The author battles all of this as well as mental and serious physical ailments to assist her friend.
When the financial scandal of the Trump inauguration needs scapegoats, the author finds herself dragged through the press and betrayed by her friend. She talks about parting ways with Melania and ends the book with her horror at seeing Melania present Rush Limbaugh with the highest civilian honor of the United States, before a short epilogue.
This book has a lot to do. Who exactly is the audience, even? In an unfairly polarized political climate, obviously the author is going to be reviled (if she's mentioned at all; much neater to pretend this never happened!) by Trump supporters. Everyone else would be wondering why exactly she was working with him (by proxy) in the first place.
So probably the greatest appeal is to celebrity gossip, and, if you want to look at the book extremely kindly, a universal story of how one person can be so blind as to not see what's right in front of them the whole time.
With that audience in mind, the author has to tell a story of two Melanias as well as two Donalds. Melania has a secret side! She's actually a warm, loving, caring person! She wants to do good! That's why she and the author became friends and the story is relatable! She could've been SUCH a great beloved First Lady if only the mean press/mean stepdaughter Ivanka/mean West Wing would've given her half a chance! The author was betrayed! Melania is a horrible, cold-hearted, self-interested viper (and always has been!) who the author could never interest in doing her job or at least not ruining things so badly that her job was so hard, that's why the story is relatable! She was a terrible First Lady because she really DIDN'T give a shit! Donald Trump is a showy but dignified, kind, loving man that's a friend's husband. He's also a vicious, disgusting bigoted bully that doesn't really love her and is exactly the insufferable waste of human sentience you've seen given too much airtime!
But perhaps the biggest feat of the book is the author desperately trying to convince you she's somebody. She's not just Melania Trump's friend who wasn't worthy of the job! She's totally notable in her own right! The forcedness of this can be seen in the photo section where the author is referred to both as "the author", "Stephanie", and "Stephanie Winston Wolkoff" as though not sure which is more notable. A picture of a card in flowers from the First Lady (and signed by the President as well as their son) with a loving message is held up as proof of their relationships and closeness ("Melania Trump sent her customary all-white floral arrangement to the author for her forty-sixth birthday at the Trump International Hotel, Washington DC, January 21, 2017"), as are smiling casual pictures. And oh, that photo section.
Although the name-dropping by the author (and we'll get to that) doesn't so much "pepper" as "overseason to the point of gagging" the book itself, some of the biggest, most utterly pointless name-dropping is in the photos section and it goes beyond the then-President and First Lady. Despite 2016 being her first time voting, the author poses smugly with then-President Bill Clinton, a picture she includes... why exactly? Because it shows she visited the White House before she worked there? The book also includes pictures of her wedding (???!!), where Anna Wintour was a guest. Why include those in a memoir of your friendship with Melania Trump? The answer is presumably the same reason we see a blisteringly long list of celebrities that even breathed near the author (although most of them totally found her amazing and notable). Here is but a small sampling:
My mom then married Bruce Winston, son of Harry Winston, of jewelry store fame. Bruce loved Mom and my brothers and me, and we loved him. When he asked me to become his legally adopted daughter, there were no words to express my happiness after the loss I'd felt being abandoned by my father. I said "Yes!" immediately. His name replaced the old one on my birth certificate. (pg 12)
Was [Anna Wintour] "Nuclear Wintour"? You bet she was! Anna was that and so much more. She could turn an ice storm into a field of sunflowers if she so desired. Her influence and creativity are undeniably what set her apart from everyone else on this planet. Anna's notorious thousand-yard stare isn't just a stare. She really is looking that far ahead of everyone else. (pg 14)
The guest list of seven hundred was star packed. It included Madonna, Mick Jagger, Jennifer Lopez, Scarlett Johansson, Princes Charles, Natalie Portman, Serena Williams, and Renée Zellweger, to mention a few. The wait-list had more than two hundred people, all of whom were dying to attend and willing to pay thousands per ticket. (In 2019, tickets were $35,000 apiece, and a table for ten people ranged from $200,000 to $300,000.) (pg 18)
I was involved with several high-profile auctions, such as the Duke and Duchess of Windsor auction and the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis estate auction, which raised $34.4 million, luring thousands of bidders who wanted a piece of Camelot for themselves-- a glass, a photo, a car, a rocking chair. Time came to Sotheby's for a story on the auction and my photo ran in the magazine. (pg 20)
I worked with Baz Luhrmann and his team to set up a mini-stage. For spectacle and glamour, I asked Hugh Jackman to serve as auctioneer. (pg 20)
Ivanka and I knew each other from the Met ball and other connections around New York. In 2013, David and I had dinner at her and Jared's modernist apartment-- I loved it. We had a nice evening. After dinner they took us to peek in on Arabella Rose while she was sleeping. It was really kind of sweet. (pg 39)
I'd known Ralph Lauren for over twenty years and had almost worked for his charitable foundation. I had no idea when I asked him if he'd consider my proposals to dress the incoming First Lady for the swearing-in ceremony, much less if he'd agree. When Ralph gave the green light, I teared up.
"I'm grateful, thankful, and hopeful," I replied. What a historical moment for all of us.
"They go lucky with you," he said. Insert lump, throat. (pg 122)
Pretty tiring, yes? It's like watching the author Forrest Gump her way (at least, by her telling) through the past few decades.
Speaking of the author, and there's a lot of speaking of the author here, I've gone on before about memoir voice. and this author is very interested in portraying herself as an important, totally non-partisan, uber patriotic, totally capable and confident worker that's also way totally relatable (as the author may say, "...NOT!") to you silly little people. She boasts of having first hand insider knowledge that's... somewhat questionable.
Her relationship with the former First Lady sounds more than a bit forced as well. She goes out of her way to reassure us of how close, how loving, how personal their friendship was. Early on in the book, she makes one of the first of many questionable claims: she says she witnessed Melania Trump be transformed into her current state (First Lady material) at the request of the Donald to his "ace in the hole" Anna Wintour. This is referring to Melania's 2005 Vogue cover.
Before her Vogue makeover, Melania was a very pretty young woman who seemed like she was playing fancy dress-up-- more a brunette Marilyn Monroe than a Jackie O. After Melania's [2005] makeover, [legendary Vogue editor] André [Leon Talley]'s achievement, she was transcendent, high fashion, editorial worthy. The makeup. The hair. The jewels. She truly was ready for her moment. I was an innocent bystander for her makeover to a small extent, in that she and André were photographed together by Patrick Demarchelier for a New York magazine article titled "The Charity Game" which featured my work on the Met Gala, and all of Vogue's labors to jigsaw the event together. (pgs 15 and 16)
More on those Kennedy comparisons later, but the author seems to forget the internet exists and images of pre-2005 Melania Trump are plentiful and available. She didn't look anything like a "brunette Marilyn Monroe" (ew) nor did she look like she was playing fancy dress-up, necessarily. She looked like a cross between an impression of Angelina Jolie and Catherine Zeta Jones, with heavy on Angelina Jolie. Her style was definitely not as finessed as it would become, but simply, the transformation is not as stark as the author wants you to believe.
The author, incidentally, wants you to know she knows fashion, which she demonstrates by minute, overly detailed, laborious descriptions of fashions, usually with a side of name-dropping (of her appearance at Trump's wedding, the author notes "I wore a strapless floor-length gown with gold-leaf details on ivory chiffon by my friend Hervé Pierre, then the artistic director with Carolina Herrera, who designed several of my Met Gala dresses (and is currently Melania’s stylist)", pg 23)
As the author goes on about Melania's "transformation",
Millions of Americans watched The Apprentice. Donald was a household name, a flashy brand like no other. And he needed a woman who looked and played the part and let him be the star. He used his ace in the hole, Anna Wintour, to bring Melania up to snuff. He used Vogue, a distinguished brand, to create a star-- not just Melania, but himself as well. If his bride was a Vogue cover model, it legitimized him, too. The Trumps resembled a close enough version of the true products to convince people who couldn't tell the difference.
Donald, who had been called "The King of Bling," Taught Melania who to master the perception of prestige and influence. Rolex, the luxury timepiece brand, is called "the King of Watches." Donald is a Rolex man. He owns a gold Rolex President, the same watch that was worn by Lyndon B. Johnson.
I was there at the beginning. I witnessed the transformation of Melania from gold plate into twenty-four-karat gold. I believed she had the heart to match, that she was genuinely caring and loving and worth all of our attention. Throughout our early friendship, she lived up to what I saw in her. Watching her now, and seeing that only the gold shell remains, I have to wonder if that's all she ever was, and I was the sucker to bought the fake watch on the street corner. (pg 26)
Kind of interesting the book leans so hard on the author's history with Vogue and makes no mention of the fact that Anna Wintour spoke positively of both Hillary Clinton but especially Michelle Obama and that Vogue endorsed Clinton for President in 2016.
Something else you may have picked up by now although you certainly will by the time you finish this review is that the author's description of events too frequently resembles an angry Facebook post about a friend's betrayal that was somehow stretched to book length.
We get a glimpse of this early on when a lunch with Melania to see how she's doing amid Pussygate contains this exchange:
"Aren't you angry?"
She shook her head. "Nope! He is who he is. I told him that if he ran for president, he had to be ready for everything to be opened up and exposed. His whole life."
And yours, too, I thought.
I asked, "Are you really ready for everything about Donald" -- and you, your past, and your marriage, I didn't add-- "to come out?"
She made one of her favorite gestures, a "That's that!" demonstrated by brushing her hands together. "If it happens, it happens." She meant it when she said, "He knows he better be ready."
I paused, my head down, and ever so slowly looked up and asked, "And Barron?"
Her jaw clenched tightly, and she pursed her shiny lips. She said,
"I talk with him and I teach him, with all the political chaos around him, to be strong." She wasn't worried that he couldn't handle it. She told her ten-year-old, just as she'd told me many times, "What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger." (pg 6)
So the author's dueling Melanias (and to a much lesser extent, dueling Donalds) waltz together through the book until the very end. The author doesn't mention secretly recording her one-time friend (and why she chose to do that) but instead sadly notes their slow parting, even after Melania has publicly stabbed her in the back/threw her under the bus (pick your metaphor) for political purposes. Along the way, the author, in addition to being a huge Mover and Shaker in the fashion industry (ANNA WINTOUR WAS AT HER WEDDING AND THERE IS PHOTOGRAPHIC PROOF IN THE BOOK!), also was primarily motivated by patriotism (no, seriously) to help who she described as her friend's husband become President. The author's patriotism is quite covered in the book, despite her not voting in any election until 2016, when her "friend's husband" was up for leader of the free world.
Underneath the pulsing energy of the crowd [when Trump won], I was quietly, privately, proud and thrilled for Melania. I remember thinking that here's was a great American immigrant story, and certainly one of the most unique. (pg 64)
Why exactly would this be considered a great immigrant story by the author? A media blowhard needed a trophy third wife (he has literally referred to her as a "trophy wife") to keep relevance in the wake of his newfound reality TV fame and married a modest fashion model nearly a quarter century younger. Despite some nods to their "special relationship" that the author claims to have witnessed, she also realized that it was a marriage that helped both of them professionally, and she casts some doubts about Donald's behavior towards Melania.
I married a far more loving and caring person than my father could ever be. Could Melania say the same? (pg 48)
(More on Melania's father, and his likeness to her husband, later.)
But perhaps most of all, this book is meant to be a coming of age story, or certainly coming-of-awareness. Well, kind of.
The first time I voted in a presidential election was in 2016. Two reason I hadn't voted before: (1) I knew nothing about policy. If you asked me the difference between Barack Obama's and Mitt Romney's stance on immigration or to explain their economic plans, I would not know where to begin. (2) I fell exactly in the middle between Democrat and Republican. On some issues I care deeply about, I would never vote Republican. I'm conservative in other areas and can't in good conscience vote Democratic. Unable to choose, I just couldn't pull the lever. I know that people have fought and died for my right to vote, and it was wrong of me not to perform my civic duty. I was patriotic in my support of American charities and local causes, but my activism was apolitical. My humanitarian work wasn't about left vs. right or red vs blue. It was about right vs. wrong.
But on the morning of Tuesday, November 8, 2016, I performed my civic duty with excitement. [Husband] David and I voted together. Like him, my mother, and my in-laws, I voted for Trump. I was aware that the vast majority of my fellow New Yorkers had probably voted for Hillary Clinton. New York City was a Democratic stronghold and Clinton's homebase. The fashion and entertainment industries in particular were actively supporting Hillary Clinton. I understood why my colleagues and city were loyal to her and that if they knew I'd voted for her opponent, they might have some choice words for me. I pushed aside all of the Trump hate around me and voted for my friend's husband. (pgs 62 and 63)
Quick note to any readers I have that might see this as a valid point or hold it themselves in regard to voting: THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOR NOR IS IT RATIONAL. The author, a wealthy woman before she set foot in the White House even the first time, has plenty of resources to make even a minimal effort to keep up with current events. And no matter who you are, so do you. Literal lives are on the line, including yours. I belong to neither major political party (and have no desire to do so, save to vote in primaries), and yet I vote in every election. More than ever, Democrats and Republicans are not the same, and those that claim they are speak from both their own privilege and their own ignorance. You do not have to agree with a candidate on one hundred percent of the issues. Just vote for the better candidate. Primary races are essential and will give you an even better variety of choices. There is absolutely no excuse, especially not now, for not voting.
My PSA/complaint aside, if she knew nothing about politics and policy, why does she think she has no place in either party? But I digress.
If that was the author's opinion about her first-ever Presidential election voting (love the framing of marginalized groups concerned for their survival as "Trump hate"), by the epilogue of the book, she may have, sort of, learned a lesson:
This journey has been truly life-altering and, as I continue to have a deep sense of patriotism and a desire to give back, I will do so with the knowledge that not only do I have a social responsibility, I have a political one as well. I have learned that when it comes to politics, not knowing is not okay. For many years, I was apolitical. That was a mistake. I now know that is not an option— it’s a luxury. And a luxury no one can afford. One’s moral values and political beliefs clearly go hand and hand, and for me to have believed otherwise was naive and foolish. (pg 338)
So progress, however insufferable ("deep sense of patriotism and a desire to give back") right?
But before her epilogue epiphany, the author relates a particularly self-unaware bit of outrage at how she's portrayed in a New York Times article.
I woke up the next morning, February 15, 2018, to see my name and picture splashed across the front page of the New York Times website under an article headlined “Trump’s Inaugural Committee Paid $26 Million to First Lady’s Friend” by Maggie Haberman and Kenneth P. Vogel.
With those ten words, life as I knew it ended.
Sitting at my desk alcove in my kitchen, I stared at the screen in disbelief. I kept hitting refresh, hoping it’d go away. The comments on the article started racking up, all of them hostile, hateful, and negative. By the headline alone, it seemed like the First Lady had handed her “party planner” friend a cushy job and that I had danced off with millions. It made our friendship the big scandal.
I was freaking out.
[...]
Personally, I was characterized as a rich white lady society dilettante. “Ms. Winston Wolkoff made her name planning Manhattan society galas. An associate of the Vogue editor Anna Wintour, Ms. Winston Wolkoff traveled in the same circles as Mrs. Trump, who attended Ms. Winston Wolkoff’s 40th birthday party in 2010. Ms. Winston Wolkoff has subsequently been brought on as a senior adviser to the first lady’s official government office.”
Oh, and I was a name-dropper, too. “Two people with direct knowledge of Ms. Winston Wolkoff’s role, who asked to remain anonymous, said she often invoked Mrs. Trump’s name with transition officials as she delivered
instructions for the inauguration.” No shit! I was working for Melania! I was delivering HER instructions for her husband’s inauguration; I was interviewing her staff. Should I not have mentioned her name?
The two anonymous sources? Take your pick. Lindsay was no fan of mine. Grisham, obviously. Hope Hicks? Heather Martin? Tommy Davis? Ivanka? I’m sure they had all spoken to Haberman. (pgs 296 and 297)
I genuinely laughed aloud at "Oh, and I was a name-dropper, too." The author is so close, so incredibly close to getting the point, and still misses by a country mile.
And that's really the whole book. The author was complicit in the Trump Presidency, and it's not like Trump himself (or Melania herself, particularly given her pre-election birtherism) hid who they were, especially during the campaign. You can not realize how blind you were about someone's shortcomings until after the relationship is over and you unpack it, but according to the author's stories, she knew who the Trumps were before it affected her personally. In fact, only when her job was completely unsalvageable did she finally "realize" who Melania was (although secretly taping their conversations certainly shows she knew something before then).
And that brings me back to my original point. Is it even ethical to review this craven, absurd attempt by someone, again, complicit in the administration to try to distance themselves from their actions (and the responsibilities)? This absurdly-even-by-the-standards-of-this-genre self-serving, badly written memoir doesn't even have an enjoyable camp value. And (as we'll see in the notes) while she may have had unflattering secret audio recordings of the then-First Lady, the author doesn't actually possess the insider knowledge she markets herself as having.
I finally decided that if you hadn't heard about this book (more likely, the accompanying infamous audio) before now, this review is unlikely to be the first time. For nearly two years, this book has swirled around, so much that last year, a major character in the book and thorn in the author's side, Stephanie Grisham, former press secretary to the First Lady, has written her own aggrieved tell-all in that time (both sides, Grisham and Winston Wolkoff, have now trashed each other). So with that in mind, I decided to review it. You may notice more quotes in my review than usual, since while I'm sure you can find this elsewhere online, I want to try to save you the time (and financial support of the author) of having to wade through this yourself.
It's just too bad that a book that forced me to challenge the ethics of my reviews was just, you know, so thoroughly unenjoyable. Much like those ducking in for the celebrity gossip/palace intrigue, the book simply does not satisfy.
Notable:
When Donald gets flustered-- you can tell because his face goes from tempered orange to bright red-- all he has to do is look at her, and he settles down. I've seen it happen across the dinner table, but more tellingly, I've witnessed it at press conferences. She sits in the front row posing, shielded from all sides with invisible armor, her chin tucked slightly to her chest and her eyes staring, deadpan, at a spot on the floor in front of her, but when he stands up behind the lectern, her fearless gaze lifts and shifts into a convincing smile for her man, and he is taken over by calmness. I've felt Melania's calm spread into me when I've been upset and crying. One arched eyebrow or word from her could ground me. From the moment Melania entered my life, I was drawn to learn more about her, and sometimes succeeded. I do know that she is honest, is loving, prizes her privacy above all things, and is faithful to her core values in ways Donald could never be. (pg 7 and 8)
More honest, loving, and faithful than Donald Trump (although notice how the author used the present tense) is a low, low bar there.
Her responses to my stories-- frowning at the right moment, laughingly loudly at my lame jokes-- came off as spontaneous and genuine. After one such lunch, she said with cute syntax, "Still laughing from our laughs." (pgs 34 and 35)
To the many, Melania is glacial, impenetrable. But to the few, she was warm and sweet, and I was her girl. (pg 35)
In 2013, I got an email from Melania's assistant asking me to make a call to get the Trumps invite-only tickets to the Met Gala. Didn't she know I hadn't produced the event in years? I couldn't help her. A few weeks later, I followed up and asked what she was wearing to the event, and she said, "We decided not to attend." Even to me, she fudged. The truth was, they couldn't buy or steal tickets. But her implication to me was that they had chosen not to attend. I didn't challenge it. I accepted her for who and what she was, regardless of what anyone else thought about her and her husband. I knew a Melania that no one else did, the warm, laughing softie with flashing eyes who made me feel safe.
I gave her the benefit of the doubt and she took it. (pgs 38 and 39)
Emojis could have been invented just for Melania and me. Those tiny little symbols said it all without having to actually say it, and when they came from her, they had special meaning. (pg 40)
"SEE, LOOK AT OUR IMPORTANT FRIENDSHIP!"
Our backgrounds, relationship, and life experiences are so different, and yet, Melania and I bonded as women, daughters, mothers, and New Yorkers. Our common ground and devotion to each other were enough to keep our friendship going and growing. But I never thought it would change into anything bigger than a mutual admiration society of two. I was wrong about that. (pg 48)
On the ground floor, we walked into the main White House kitchen. "So, this is where the magic happens," I said.
The executive chef looked shocked to see us poking around by ourselves, but as soon as Melania said, "Hello, everybody," a calm spread throughout the room, and everyone there smiled back. (pg 156)
[Melania] read the following [after touring the Smithsonian's National Museum of African American History and Culture], which I helped her compose:
As we toured this awe-inspiring building, one could not help but be overcome by the bittersweet history of African Americans. Theirs is truly the story of the triumph of the human spirit over unthinkable inhumanity.. we rededicate ourselves to those powerful words that both our nations hold dear: NEVER AGAIN!
I was hopeful that, after such a successful visit, Melania would embrace her role and blossom into the kind of First Lady our country could be proud of. (pg 209)
Ivanka sat with Carryn Owens, the widow of Navy SEAL William Ryan Owens, who’d recently been killed in Yemen. The crowd gave the widow an ovation for more than a minute. Mrs. Owens was sobbing openly throughout. Ivanka stood next to her. At one point, she comforted the widow with a pat on her back.
I whispered to Melania, “You should turn around.”
She shook her head. When we had the chance to talk, she explained she didn’t want “just to do that,” and I knew she was referring to how Ivanka used that moment. Melania did not do what people expected her to do, period; she’d
only do what felt right for her.
[...]
I had a big realization that night about the difference between Melania and Ivanka. Melania would not play the sympathy or the drama card. Ivanka stacked the deck with them and made sure the cameras captured every moment. Although Ivanka gave the appearance of warmth, people questioned her sincerity, even if it was genuine. Melania gave the appearance of coldness, but she was authentic and genuinely felt sorry for Mrs. Owens. Her authenticity and common sense were what drew me to her, again and again. She was who she was, and that had been fine in New York. But in Washington, compared to ingratiating Ivanka, Melania’s refusal to go through the motions was not sitting well with the press. (pgs 222 and 223)
Public attitude matters a lot when you're in a political position. While the author is doing some mind-bending to defend her former friend, a little, it's a lot easier to imagine that Melania really didn't want to be bothered, since she really didn't want the job of First Lady, but didn't want Ivanka to have it either.
The author has an embarrassing but humorous public incident about a false front tooth coming loose that she relates to Melania.
David and I spent the afternoon with Melania at the White House Residence. Sitting in the West Sitting Hall, we rehashed the whole tooth saga. I was laughing so hard when I described the expression on Tom’s face when the incisor bounced off his head that my tooth fell out yet again. Best comic timing of any artificial body part ever.
I started to shove it back in, but Melania said, “What does it matter? Just leave it out!”
She could be cool, so unfazed by things that would make others, including myself, cringe. So I did as she asked and the three of us sat in the Residence gossiping about the wedding while I whistled through my gap. Melania and I
talked about next steps on the initiative, too, until Donald returned from playing a round of golf. I quickly reinserted my tooth. I didn’t care if Melania saw me like that. But Donald would have been taken aback. Fortunately, he was so busy talking about himself, I didn’t have to say a word.
Laughing together like that and being comfortable enough with her that I could be toothless, and that she even welcomed it, reminded me what I loved about Melania, and why I needed to keep working with her. (pg 247 and 248)
The book is literally dedicated to Melania.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
As a publicity and marketing expert, I was confused as to why Melania didn't use the name Trump to sell her products. She said, "I want it to be mine." She'd spent a decade on Donald's arm by the time she launched her own brand. Perhaps she was ready to stand on her own? Did she believe her own hype, that her celebrity would be enough to move product? She insists that she was always a "top model," even before she met Donald, and was a one-name icon like Cher or Beyoncé. All she thought she needed to do was slap a big letter M on a pump bottle, and it would fly off the shelves. (pg 31)
Moment of small almost-sympathy for Melania if she truly does or did believe that she was ever a "one-name icon."
I never saw Melania and Donald simply write a check [for the author's charities], as most of my friends and contacts did. That wouldn't have been visible enough. If they were going to give something away, people had better know about it. Although they were always invited to these charity auctions, they rarely attended them.
When she did come to an event by herself (also rarely), Melania walked in with her head up and an "I'm above all of you" attitude. (pg 36)
And yet, you kept inviting her to your functions?
[The author's 2009 resignation party from Vogue] was a beautiful party, and I was honored that so many of my friends and colleagues came to send me off. I placed Melania next to André [Leon Talley], so she'd be comfortable and happy. She sent me an email the next day, saying it was a beautiful luncheon, that she was so happy to be a part of it, and that I looked fantastic. "if you have a second, please mail me the names of PR that you think will be great for my time-pieces and jewelry line," she put at the end. "Thanks a million."
This dynamic emerged, that I was the giver in the relationship, Melania was the receiver, always looking for more. It started small, with her asking for recommendations for assistants, housekeepers, designers, florists. Even when she was thanking me for including her or helping her, she'd slip in a request for something else. At the time, it didn't faze me. (pgs 36 and 37)
One day, Melania emailed that she'd dropped off Barron and spotted my middle child there. "I saw Taylor today," she wrote. "I called his name, but I don't think he recognized me."
Maybe because his name is Tyler, not Taylor. She spelled and pronounced his name incorrectly for ten years, and I never corrected her and neither did Tyler. She was it spelled the right way in my texts, emails, and party invites but stuck with her variation. What could I do? I chalked it up to the language difference. (pg 37)
Maybe if you'd have corrected her at least once (particularly when your child had to hear the wrong name and clearly chose to follow your lead) things might have been different?
I invited Melania to attend an event I was hosting that I'd been working on for quite some time and she knew was important to me, to raise funds for food allergy research. She wrote that she was not available that day. I thought that was a bit abrupt, especially compared to the no I got from her stepdaughter Ivanka, who wrote a heartwarming note about my son and a long explanation saying she was out of the country on the date in question. (pg 39)
When in doubt, pit Ivanka and Melania against each other. Not that I'm saying I don't think they don't care for one another, I'm just saying that the author is very, very aware of that.
In early May [of 2014], I sent a photo of [son] Zach [who had just finished a clinical trial at Stanford University School of Medicine] holding a peanut M&M to family and friends that said, "Zach is HOLDING and EATING (under strict protocol) the foods he is allergic to. We all know that this is not a cure yet but a way to a 'normal' way of life where our children can go to restaurants, play dates, sleepovers, vacation and so much more." To Melania, I added a personal note: "Hi. I can't believe I haven't seen you in so long. How are you? Barron? DT? I am free whenever you are...I am back and forth to California every two weeks for Zach's medical trial. If you're interested would love for you to join me. XOXOXO."
Everyone else who saw that photo wrote back with great joy and excitement. When Melania replied nine days later, she didn't mention Zach, just tried to set up a lunch. I was hurt but I chalked it up to the reality that people are busy. I never placed any expectations on replies to emails (because I am the worst person about replying and feel terrible about it.) (pg 40)
This seems extraordinarily petty, especially when the author admits she's terrible with replying herself. I'm sure it must've hurt, so why not bring this up to her friend? WHY NOT ACTUALLY ADDRESS ANY OF THESE ISSUES LIKE RESPONSIBLE ADULTS. Again, this is if we are taking the author's word as the truth, which the author is assuming we are.
Melania is oddly secretive about her son and her experience with motherhood. If Barron got sick, she wouldn't mention it or she'd say he was feeling better once it was all over. When I complained about breastfeeding my kids-- Zach for six months, Tyler for five, and Alexi for only one because I tore my C-section stitches running up the steps of the Met to get to a meeting with Anna [Wintour, of course! Who else!] and had to go on antibiotics-- Melania didn't hop in and say, "Oh, yeah, breastfeeding is a killer!" as many women would. She just listened to me and laughed. The one time she opened up about anything childbirth related was when I told her David was in the delivery room each time. Melania revealed that Donald wasn't within two hundred feet of her delivery room. She wouldn't allow it! (pg 41)
I don't get what the point of revealing this is. Different parents have different comfort levels about what they share. And given that this is a tell-all where the author is "exposing" several private stories Melania shared about her son (among them, Melania frowned during her Inauguration meme moment because he had kicked her by accident; having a friend stay in the supposedly haunted Lincoln bedroom, Barron supposedly played a prank that involved scary "ghost" noises played with a recording device, something the author sniffed about) it contradicts the author's narrative.
Melania has perpetuated the myth that she never hired a nanny when Barron was young and that she waited to start her businesses until he went to school. But even Donald admitted that the Trumps had help. "Yes, there is a young woman, someone who works with Barron," he told the New York Post in October 2015. There was always someone there-- the cook, Melania's assistant, and a lot of the time, her mother-- to watch him. Now, at the White House, Barron hangs out with the Secret Service agents. (pg 41)
Again, this tone is really better suited to a simmering Facebook post, not a prestige publisher tell-all.
We all know Melania grew up in Communist Yugoslavia, now Slovenia, in a town called Sevnica. Considering that she told GQ's Julia Ioffe in 2016, "I love my childhood. It was a beautiful childhood," It's just plain weird that she never talked about it with me. I was naturally curious about what it was like to grow up in a Communist country. I figured that if she wanted to tell her stories, she would eventually. But since she never picked up the conversation about her childhood when I shared details about mine, I let it go. I was raised it's rude to pry. (pgs 42 and 43)
It's, uh, actually not that weird. Did you, author, ever ask her about it? People don't talk about certain parts of their past for various reasons that have nothing to do with them being shady or withholding. This whole book is like a textbook example of toxic relationships.
It was almost like her husband wasn't running for president, or saying "They're bringing in drugs. They're bringing crime. They're rapists" about Mexicans, or commenting that Fox News host Megyn Kelly had "blood coming out of her wherever." (pg 50)
And you, author, LITERALLY VOTED FOR THAT SAME DAMN MAN.
[Melania] thanked me for speaking to the reporter, and texted often about how much she valued our friendship and loved me. She always asked about my kids. I asked her for similar favor, to talk to a Hollywood Reporter journalist who was writing a piece about the Met Gala. I thought she could recount some of her experiences there or describe her favorite gown. She didn't reply to my request all day and then wrote she hadn't seen it because she was in the spa, taking some time off so she could relax. "Not in the mood to talk to HR," she said. I didn't push it. She could have done what she'd always done with press inquiries and just emailed her response. But Melania does not do what she doesn't want to do, period. (pg 52)
Petty petty petty petty.
[Melania] replied [to the author's concerns about the plagiarism charges in her convention speech] on July 20, "Don't worry. Liberal media bashing. Nothing new. It is not the first time or the last time. Love you!"
But... the media was only reporting the truth. The plagiarism was undeniable. The real story was how the Trump campaign could ever let this happen. Trump surrogates like Sean Spicer went into overdrive to defend Melania, making all kinds of excuses, even saying that the lifted paragraphs weren't all that original in the first place. The "official story" was that Melania had given Obama's speech to her collaborator, a Trump Organization ghostwriter named Meredith McIver, for inspiration, and somewhere along the way, those passages made it into the final draft. McIver took all the blame and offered to resign from her long-standing job at Donald's company. He refused to accept her resignation.
If you're caught plagiarizing in school, you get in trouble. But no one really suffered from this incident. No firings. No public flogging. (pg 56)
Once again, this is a lot of scolding. A lot of scolding coming directly from someone who literally voted for Trump to be President, and worked in his administration.
Rupert Murdoch's New York Post ran a nude photo of Melania on the cover with the leering headline "The Ogle Office." The pictures (more were published inside the paper) had been taken in 1996, when she was twenty-five, and had run in Max, a French men's magazine, in 1997. As awkward as it may have been for Melania to explain to Barron why Mommy was nude on the cover of a tabloid, I'm sure one part of her looked at the images and thought, Damn, I look good. Many a woman would be publicly outraged but privately gloating.
As soon as I saw the paper, I texted, "Hi. WTF! I just saw the Post. Want to talk?"
She wrote back immediately, "Not surprised. They would do anything to bash me. No worries. Not first time. Will not be the last. Have a thick skin. Liberal media making a big deal out of nothing. One day story. Love you."
But... the Post wasn't the "liberal media."
Trump and Murdoch have a bromance. It was rumored, and widely acknowledge within Trump circles, that Donald himself was responsible for his pal media mogul Rupert Murdoch's learning about the existence of the photos. (pgs 57 and 58)
Can we please, as a people, put down the word "bromance" to mean "friendship between two men", seriously. Also, Donald Trump and Rupurt Murdoch are not friends. They have, by most accounts, a mutually beneficial relationship. Trump gets to brag about knowing Murdoch and Murdoch tolerates Trump because he's good for business (although what he thinks "privately" of the 45th President may be something else entirely.
As for how her name would appear on the program [for the Military Ball], Melania said, "I want to be listed as First Lady Melania Trump."
"That's your official title but not until after the swearing-in ceremony." I said.
"Then call me First Lady-Elect."
"We can't do that because you weren't elected."
"That's what I want."
"Karen Pence is using Mrs. Karen Pence."
She didn't care. "First Lady-Elect!" became her mantra whenever programs and invites came up. This was one of the only times she didn't get her way. She was listed as Mrs. Melania Trump. (pg 89)
That's kind of hilariously pathetic and its use of language beyond its purpose to serve a pretentious purpose is giving me real Kim Craig née Day vibes.
Although [French born American designer] Hervé [Pierre] and Melania spoke a common language of design, they spoke to each other in English. Not once did I hear or see either of them speak or write in French. It seemed odd to me: Melania claims to be fluent in Hervé's native language. (Come to think of it, I have never heard her speak a single word of any language besides English and Slovenian with her parents and Barron. Not that I'm saying that there's anything wrong with speaking only two languages-- that's one more than I can! But I've never claimed otherwise.)
Herve texted me, "I'm putting the dress to work on Monday. I am so honored. She's really fabulous. I love her. I can't hide it. We started to speak about money, but I told her that the priority at the moment was her gown and we shall speak about fee after the inauguration."
His first mistake. Never try to get money from a Trump after the fact.
Hervé updated me at every step of the process as he had muslin fittings, sewed on the embellishments, and made petite sketchbooks of her outfits. But he still hadn't pushed Melania about payment. I asked him why, and he admitted, "I'm afraid."
I knew exactly how he felt. There's an imperiousness, a grandeur, about the Trumps that makes one scared to mention something as trifling as fair compensation. People tend to tiptoe around the subject. The Trumps treat people as if being in their orbit is its own reward. (pg 135)
Once again, she knew exactly how he felt about the Trumps while she was still supposedly Melania's best friend.
On a day that must have been excruciating [Trump's inauguration], [Hillary] Clinton wore a suffragette-white cashmere coat and pantsuit... by Ralph Lauren.
If Melania had known Hillary would also be dressed in Ralph Lauren, she would have been angry and might have be decided not to wear the outfit. To me, his designing both women's outfits proved Lauren was truly an American icon. (pg 151)
...In that he was willing to shrug off any personal ethical issues in pursuit of making even more money (and he's already a billionaire)?
Also, suffagragist is the correct term "suffragette" was the demeaning, belittling term coined by detractors of women's suffrage.
Once we were settled and the ceremony started, I focused on witnessing history with my family. Later, when Melania asked, "How were your seats?" I told her we didn't have seats. Her response was,
"We were told the same by many of our guests." If the shoe had been on the other foot, I would have been apoplectic. (pgs 151 and 152)
Would you have been, though? Or would you have concocted a story about how it wasn't really your fault?
I forwarded to Melania a news item that reported Ralph Lauren company stock had soared after the inauguration, despite calls on Twitter for a boycott. She replied with a snippy "They must be happy."
That was it. No "I'm happy for them" or "Thank Ralph so much, and Charles and Kimball, for all their hard work." Or "Thank you for leveraging relationships you'd built over two decades to help me look my best." I wasn't expecting a round of applause, but an acknowledgement of their graciousness would have been nice, even if she was bitter about sharing a designer with Hillary. (pgs 153 and 154)
This righteous anger from the author came after a compliment to the author ("[The administration] got lucky with you.") from Ralph Lauren and her smarmy way of handling it (more on that later) and it doesn't come off so much as Melania is ungrateful so much as the last person to flatter the author gets her loyalty. Also, the levels of petty in this book just go deeper and deeper.
Toward the end of the ceremony, with the family and VIPs assembled on the riser, Barron, on Melania's right, started fidgeting. Ivanka and Tiffany were standing behind them.
Donald turned around to smile at his wife. She smiled back at him. As soon as he turned away, she frowned aggressively. Twitter went nuts, and the hashtag #FreeMelania was born. Viewers of the footage assumed that she only smiled when Donald was watching, and as soon as his eyes were off her, she let her true contempt show.
It wasn't at all what had happened. Melania suddenly frowned and looked down and to her right because Barron had kicked her in the ankle by accident, she explained to me later. It hurt, and her annoyed face reflected that.
As her advisor, I suggested she set the record straight about the #FreeMelania frown. She said, "Who cares what they think? It's my private business. I don't owe them an explanation."
"They" happened to be the American people. (pg 154)
I swear my eyes rolled so hard in the back of my head at that last sentence. Such righteous indignation! Tell me, author, whose Presidential campaign were you watching when you agreed to work in this administration?
Much to the consternation of New Yorkers- they weren't thrilled to foot the additional police bills-- Melania wasn't leaving Trump Tower [for the White House] in a hurry. She was adamant that she wasn't going to disrupt Barron's life by uprooting him the middle of a school year. For so many reasons, I couldn't comprehend how she thought it was okay to stay in New York just because she wanted to. I said, "You're going to have to move here as soon as possible. This isn't about you anymore. It's about our country."
She looked at me and said, "I get it."
The reality was, she understood just fine, but, as she explained to me, "I don't care what people think. I will do what is right for me and Barron."
I was pretty sure Melania had to put her hand under my chin and closes my jaw. She was going to do right by herself, as expected. That was Melania's way. (pgs 155 and 156)
Notice a trend? The author is the Voice of Reason™ as well as the Voice For the American People™.
When we got to the Residence, Melania took one look at her bedroom off the West Sitting Hall and said, "I'm not moving to DC until the Residence has been renovated and redecorated, starting with a new shower and toilet."
Gold plated?
She did not go so far as to say that she would not sit on the same throne as Michelle Obama or whoever had used this bathroom. It could have been the queen of England's. But Melania did not conduct her most personal business on a previously used john. (pg 157)
Late on Friday of our first week, Melania told me, "I'm not going to DC tomorrow." Heavy sigh. Really? Was it such a good idea to leave Donald all alone during his very first weekend as president? Who knew what he'd get up to without her grounding force. (That Friday, Trump signed Executive Order 13769, a.k.a. the Muslim Ban, the first wildly controversial EO of his presidency.) If only Melania had changed her mind, perhaps this ill-advised decision may never have occurred. Doubtful, but you never know. That one extra opinion might have swayed him. (pg 175)
Bold of you to assume that Melania would've opposed the Executive Order.
On January 28, FLOTUS texted to ask me how my day went.
Now, mind you, it was ten o'clock in the evening. I was finally in my own bed in New York. I'd climbed figurative mountains for Melania all week and my neck had been in throbbing pain all day. I couldn't allow myself to even think about an honest reply or I would have burst into tears. Instead, I asked back, "How was yours?"
"Unpacking from last week," she said. "A lot to do."
Unpacking? I thought. A lot to do?
She wanted to know how the kids and David were doing and urged me to get some rest and to have some "peaceful time" with them.
I sent her a long string of 😝 and 😍 and wrote, "Hope that answers it! I am laughing at myself!"
She signed off with "Love you ❤️"
And I replied "Love you too ❤️"
We exchanged 😉s, 😆s, and 😋s all day every day and it felt intimate and close. The sentiments were real. but how could she tell me to have peaceful time with my family-- her self-care mantra was "Schedule it!"-- when she knew I was running myself ragged for her and there was too much to deal with to drop everything and relax? Was she just not thinking, or didn't she notice? Or maybe she just didn't care? (pgs 182 and 183)
Quick note, I realize emoji are a personal thing, but how exactly does "😝 😍 " indicate "laughing at myself"?
As irritating as they were, AWOL FLOTUS articles were only presenting the evidence. Melania lived in New York. She didn't appear in public or release statements to the press. Her social media was quiet. Ivanka rushed in to fill the void as the "acting" First Lady, issuing constant social media posts and press releases galore about her involvement with women's issues, lobbying Daddy about climate change (alas, unsuccessfully), and attending every meeting she could slink her way into. (pg 191)
Hold up "alas, unsuccessfully"? If you're interested in fighting climate change, how about you, I don't know, don't elect and work for a man who said climate change is a hoax created by the Chinese government? Jesus.
The author gets a surprising bit of information when coordinating a trip for the First Lady when she learns Melania is apparently allergic to almonds. As the mother of a child with food allergies, she's... perplexed, to say the least, about how it's never come up until now.
Wait, WHAT? Melania was allergic to nuts?
She knew what we'd been through over the years with Zach.
She'd heard me sobbing over his scares and cheered him on during his desensitizing therapy and had given me sympathy and emotional support. All this time, she'd had a nut allergy and never once mentioned it to me? It seemed unthinkable, considering how many dozens of hours we'd spent talking about Zach. She knew I had put SWW Creative on the shelf for two years to enroll Zachary in a life-changing oral immunotherapy (OIT) food trial, under the oversight of Dr. Kari Nadeau, the director of the Sean N. Parker Center for Allergy & Asthma Research at Stanford University. I'd invited Melania to every fundraiser I'd organized for this cause over the years, but she'd always said she was unavailable for those particular events. To the best of my recollection, she'd never once written a check for them, either.
I should have confronted her and said, "Almond allergy? What gives?" But I let it go, as I always did. I had every intention of picking it up later, when we had five minutes to breath and I had an inkling of what I'd say. I never did. (pg 193)
Making someone else's allergy all about you and your feelings is about in line with the ableism of this author (we've got more on that coming!) but why not wonder why her friend felt she couldn't disclose this allergy? Was it mild and she felt guilty given what her friend had been through with her child? Did she not feel comfortable talking about it for valid, non-shitty reasons? Is there even a shitty reason to hide an allergy in this case? Again, all of this could've been solved by talking to her friend like a reasonable adult.
[Melania Trump and wife of the then-Japanese Prime Minister, Akie Abe] went to the church [where Melania attended and in which she'd been married] and took photos, but Melania didn't like any of the pictures of the two of them-- "too common, not artistic enough"-- so she sent me a shot of the church itself and told me to "post this one with the cross." The photos of the garden tour were much more flattering. She sent two pictures and instructed me to "get them online."
A bit curt, I thought, but it's hard to interpret the tone of texts She followed that up with rapid-fire instructions that made my head spin:
Only #1 first tweet with picture. #2 and #3 tweet no pic. Facebook #1 with photo #2 and #3 no photo just post. Instagram no #2 or #3.
The whole time she was sending me my posting orders, she was sitting next to Mrs. Abe in the car. (pg 203)
I'm sorry, but this is kind of hilarious. I know poor Veep had its hands full trying to still find absurdity in the era of #45*, but that seriously sounds like a Veep storyline.
I asked chief of staff Lindsay [Reynolds] how Melania was doing, which Lindsay promptly told Melania. She LOLed and 😝-ed at me, as if her well-being were a silly thing for me to worry about. (pg 203)
FLOTUS wore a black Dolce & Gabbana gown with a slit to her midthigh, sexy, dramatic, and regal. I was still very much on the American-only bandwagon and had tried to pair her with designers Ken Kaufman and Isaac Franco for this event. But after hearing that Ivanka had worn a KaufmanFranco
dress for a different event, she said, “Forget it.” If Ivanka was dressed by a designer, Melania would cross them off her list. Too bad for her, I thought, they make the sexiest red carpet looks! (pg 219)
WOW, THE AUTHOR SURE KNOWS A LOT ABOUT FASHION, THAT'S FOR SURE.
Every time we had to rise to our feet and applaud something Donald said, I hauled my large frame off that step and came all the way back down. Dozens and dozens of times. I squatted more in two hours in front of the entire world than I had in a gym for over two years. The stress on my back was beyond. During those ovations, Melania picked and chose when to stand. I told her through my teeth, “Stand up!” It was as if she didn’t think she had to. The queen does not stand with the masses to praise the king. (pg 222)
Okay, talk about Veep storylines. If she wasn't such a despicable person, Melania would be hilarious.
On March 2, we went on another “OTR” [off the record] visit, to the pediatric playroom at New York-Presbyterian/Weill Cornell Medical Center in Manhattan. She and I were both affiliated with the hospital and their word was golden to me. All three of my children were born at NYP. For many years, I’d donated a percentage of proceeds from charitable fashion events I’d hosted to the hospital.
Lindsay’s search-and-buy errand for that event was to go to Target and purchase a bunch of Dr. Seuss books to put into a gift basket. Melania intended to read to the kids from Oh, the Places You’ll Go!. We’d tried to get books from Random House, the publisher, but they couldn’t deliver in time. The event coincided with the late author’s birthday, too. Like I said, this was all carefully planned.
The press release for the event mentioned National Read Across America Day, which, as it turned out, isn’t really a thing in the US. Melania approved the statement in full, but she asked for one line to be edited out: “Barron and I have read Oh, the Places You’ll Go! repeatedly, and it inspires and captivates us each time.”
Why cut that sentence? Because her private life was not for public consumption. “It’s no one’s business what I read to my son,” she said. She just didn’t want anyone to know the details of their intimate interactions.
A small press pool was permitted to come to the event, with strict stipulations. Melania said, “No audio of me reading on camera.” She would shoot B-roll only, meaning press photographers could get shots of her walking
and greeting the kids. No audio. No interviews. No questions.
[First Lady operations director] Tim Tripepi played the big man and said, “They may try [to get audio]. I’ll push them out if they do!”
You go, Tim. Flex those muscles.(pgs 226 and 227)
Her not wanting audio of her reading is surprisingly sad, really.
That day, her en-route-to-the-airport, Manolos-and-bomber-jacket look was Outfit #1. She changed on the plane into Outfit #2, different pants and blinding-white tennis shoes that had obviously never been worn before. Even if she’d thought for a second that her stiletto heels would cause controversy, she wouldn’t have cared. She liked how she looked, and That. Was. That.
“Ronald Reagan always wore a suit to the Oval Office out of respect for his position,” she would say. “It’s the same thing.” (pg 253)
Aside from "That. Was. That." not having the punch the author probably intended, Melania Trump comparing herself to Ronald Reagan in the stupidest, most shallow way is... strangely on-brand.
As far as Melania was concerned, it did not matter whether her clothing met whatever standard the public and media required, or whether it was appropriate for the weather, location, or occasion. Nothing mattered to her but her opinion of how she looked. And to be fair, she usually looked pretty great. (pg 254)
We must have come up with a hundred names for Melania’s initiative. I bought dozens of domain names on GoDaddy on my own dime. All rejected: Children First (“too much like America First”), Shield Your Children (“don’t like ‘shield’”), Be a Cyber Buddy (“don’t like buddy, too casual”), Protect Our Children (“too long”), Speak Up (“nope”). I pushed Let’s Talk, a natural continuation of Michelle Obama’s Let’s Move, but Melania rejected anything that would remind people of someone else. It had to be original, hers alone. (pg 256)
Her attitude of rejecting anything that reminded people of someone else would've come in handy with her convention speech.
Before an upcoming interview, I asked her how she would respond to the Donald question [meaning the irony of having a campaign against cyberbullying when you're married to one of the most high profile cyberbullies], and she said, “Don’t care what they ask. Will always answer what I want. They don’t deserve more.” Way to kick off our initiative about teaching noncombative communication skills with a great, open attitude! (pg 260)
I couldn’t help noticing a chill in the air between Melania and me. It had been on and off since the UN lunch. As quickly as Trump’s wall on the Mexican border went up, so did Melania’s. But hers was more impenetrable. Things were just different. Little did I know that the powers that be had concocted a brilliant plan that involved Melania and me, and the wheels were now in motion. The plan, in fact, had been in place, for almost a year.
The complex and destructive motivations and behaviors from all of the personalities that joined the bandwagon made the dynamic of Melania and my relationship, once fenced off with boundaries and barriers, explode at the seams
with intrigue, secrecy, and, ultimately, betrayal. (pg 264)
"As quickly as Trump’s wall on the Mexican border went up, so did Melania’s"? Uhhh, you really want to make that comparison? Especially since "his" wall didn't go up quickly. It took two years into his Presidency, an unprecedentedly long government shutdown, a (bullshit) declared national emergency, and a private organization that Trump's own close advisor Steve Bannon was arrested and charged with defrauding.
About five minutes later, Katie Rogers of the New York Times got in touch
with me about the recent book release that had captivated the nation, Fire and Fury, the White House exposé by Michael Wolff. In the book, he wrote that Melania hadn’t wanted Donald to run and that she’d been crying bitter tears on election night. Rogers said, “I was just wondering if you had any idea if that was actually true.”
I asked Melania how to respond. “Say it is not true,” she told me. “Whatever is about MT in the book is total fiction. Never happened. Wonder where they get all this info? They don’t know real MT.” Like DJT, MT sometimes spoke about herself in the third person. (pg 274)
That's creepy.
In late January, Melania was supposed to join Donald in Davos, Switzerland, for the World Economic Forum, the annual gathering where billionaires talk about how to rule the world. Grisham’s statement about why FLOTUS decided at the last minute to blow off Davos was, “It was determined there were too many scheduling and logistical issues, so Mrs. Trump will not travel to Davos.”
Many speculated that Melania wasn’t going because she was furious about Stormy Daniels. She told me she didn’t feel like going and just waiting around.
So what would the First Lady do instead?
On January 25, she went to the US Holocaust Memorial Museum. International Holocaust Remembrance Day was a few days away. The visit was politically acceptable and close to home, and she could control it completely. Melania asked me to come with her and her mother. I was supposed to be on a flight back to New York, but I stayed for that. No press was invited, which was how things were done now, with Grisham calling the shots. But the visit would be chronicled by the White House photographer.
The museum director, Sara Bloomfield, gave Melania a private tour, and the photographer captured every solemn moment. At one point, I nudged Mrs. Knavs to stand with her daughter in a photo. Except for that one moment, Melania walked with Bloomfield, learning about the museum, while the rest of us trailed behind.
Melania knew that my grandparents were Holocaust survivors. I would have loved to have walked with her to hear what the museum director had to say about the exhibition. I’d stayed in DC just to follow her around? Especially here,
in a place that had meaning to me and my family? This push-pull feeling, the back-and-forth of her being cold on Monday and warm on Tuesday, asking me to come on an outing and then not including me in the museum director’s tour?
Sending “love you” texts and then not replying to calls was wearing on me.
[...]
At the Hall of Remembrance’s eternal flame memorial, Melania paused to light a candle at the starkly beautiful prayer wall. I thought of Bobie and Papa and missed them so viscerally, my throat and stomach tightened.
Did Melania notice my emotion and call me over to light a candle with her for my grandparents? Nope.
She was my friend, someone I loved, remembering people I’d loved before, acknowledging their survival and their suffering. Any normal person with a human heart would have understood why that was important to me. But I was
coming to realize what was really important to her. She just wanted a picture to post on social media.
As we rode back to the White House, I said, “That was hard for me. I miss my grandparents.” Melania looked at me sympathetically. I said, “Thank you for bringing me with you today.”
And then she went back to looking at the images.
Later that day, she posted a few of them and released a statement, written by Grisham, no doubt: “My thoughts and prayers are with the people whose lives and families were broken by the horrors of the Holocaust...”
But not with the person standing right behind her whose family had experienced those horrors. (pgs 276, 277, and 278)
Did you seriously make your grandparents' Holocaust survival all about yourself and being recognized and paid attention to by the First Lady?! This after the President of the administration you were serving defending neoNazis as "very fine people" after they shouted slogans like "Jews will not replace us".
I genuinely believed, as did [research child psychologist Dr] Marc [Brackett] and [Co-founder and Associate Director for the Yale Center for Emotional Intelligence and an Associate Research Scientist at the Child Dr.] Robin [Stern], doctors, therapists, professors, researchers, and experts, that Melania wanted to effect change. Melania wanted to focus on cyberbullying and being a good digital citizen in today’s world. Her mission was to stop individuals from hiding behind their screens to protect their identity.
I wanted this initiative to succeed against all odds and was willing to keep fighting for the greater good.
She’d always asked me, “Why do you care so much?” I had to care for the both of us until I realized how much she didn’t really care at all. (pg 303)
Again, the dueling Melanias!
I could only surmise that the price for informing Donald and Melania about the irregularities and problems, and executing my overload of work for the inauguration, was becoming the cover girl for the inauguration shenanigans, and having my name soiled by the New York Times. (pg 306)
When the author is finally thrown under the bus, she makes a last ditch attempt to save herself.
That triggered an epic letter-writing session that went on for hours. I couldn’t
put my feelings in a text. As Tom would say, I had to craft and sculpt a response, and let her know just how angry and upset I still was.
Melania,
ONLY YOU CAN REPAIR THIS TERRIBLE INJUSTICE TO ME, MY REPUTATION AND MY INTEGRITY BY ISSUING A STATEMENT.
I know the lawyers told you not to comment. But the facts speak for themselves. And you can say something for me.
You are the First Lady, and you have the authority to take care of this. You know I would do this for you a hundred times over. My family and friends, the ones who still talk to me, are horrified by your silence. There is no excuse for you not to defend me.
If [Grisham had] just repeated what Stefan told me— “You’ve done nothing wrong and this had nothing to do with the PIC”— none of this would be happening and I would not be begging for your help.
The moment you saw that headline, you should have issued a statement of your complete acknowledgement of my work, my integrity and my loyalty to you, POTUS and the country. You know that. The SILENCE from you is deafening and unfair. ONLY YOU can fix this. I love you.
Love,
Stephanie
I challenged her about saying she and Donald were displeased with me and David Monn. She said, “The lawyers made me and Donald say that. I would defend you, but I don’t want to break the law.”
What law says you are forbidden from defending a falsely accused and devoted friend? This was Melania Trump. A woman who does what she wants and what suits her own interests. In this case, that meant letting powerful forces (1) discredit me, (2) get rid of me, and (3) destroy me. By not protecting me, which she had promised to do, she was a tacit accomplice.
I’d been there for her. Whatever she asked for, whatever she needed, I supplied. The one time I asked for a precious thing— for her to speak the truth— she left my corner, leaving me bleeding in the ring.
When it really counted, Melania wasn’t there for me. She wasn’t really my friend. In fact, I wish I had never met her. (pgs 310 and 311)
Was this when the author started recording their conversations, I wonder?
I was still in Mel-La-Lania Land. We continued to text and talk as if nothing had happened. I went along with it because I clung to the belief that she’d eventually defend me with the truth. (pg 315)
"Mel-La-Lania Land" made me cringe hard.
Right now, [Melania's] nonresponse [to her husband's affairs] cast her as either a long-suffering victim of her unfaithful husband or a coldhearted gold digger. She refused to take action. I now realize Melania is not a normal woman. Two women had described having sex with her husband on national TV in graphic detail in the same week. Her private response: “It’s politics.” Her public response: dead silence. It just wasn’t a human reaction. (pg 316)
I feel this is unfair. Her not wanting to drag out her feelings about something humiliating and painful isn't an inhuman response, especially with someone with whom she has, by this own author's description, a transactional marriage.
She was enjoying her game of hide-and-seek with the American people.
Melania was still laughing about the media reaction to her mysterious absence from public view. “Face lift? I’m too scared!” she said. “Nervous breakdown? I’m like, seriously? They don’t even know me. My friend said,
‘You give people nervous breakdown, you don’t have it your own!’”
Tell me about it, sister. (pg 319)
Shifting gears abruptly (as she often does), Melania asked, “Did you go to
the premiere of André’s film?”
Is she really asking me if I’ve been to the movies? I looked around at the mayhem on my table and floor. It looked like I’d pillaged a Staples warehouse with all my binders of PIC records and printouts of emails and texts. Plus, I knew I looked haggard. I’d woken up with a migraine and black circles under my eyes. I’d been wearing the same flowered cotton pajamas for the last three days.
She was referring to The Gospel According to André, a documentary about Vogue editor-at-large André Leon Talley, which had come out in April.
I’d been cut off from the industry I once called home and my old friends, in part because I’d chosen to work for her. I simply said, “I haven’t seen it.” (pg 323)
Melania was in a very chatty mood. “Anna [Wintour] gave the September issue of
Vogue to Beyoncé. The cover, the articles, everything.... They say it might be [Anna’s] last cover. I don’t know. And Annie Leibovitz shot the porn hooker.” She pronounced it HOO-car.
“The what?” I had no idea who or what she was referring to.
“Stormy,” she said. “She will be in Vogue.” (pg 324 and 325)
In case you were wondering who Melania blamed for the affair.
Melania sent holiday wishes in December [2018], and on January 1, she wrote, “Wishing you and your family a happy and healthy New Year.”
I wrote back with my own message that I hoped she would have a happy and healthy 2019.
Since then, we have not talked, texted, or emailed.
On my birthday in 2019, flowers from Melania did not arrive at my door. For fourteen years, she had sent something, no matter what was going on in her life. Her wedding. The swearing-in. She always remembered. I had to assume she remembered my birthday that year, too, but she sent nothing. Despite everything, I was disappointed. Our friendship didn’t end with a fight. It ended with an absence.
I’ve thought a lot about my grandparents since my departure from the White House, the ruination of my reputation, and Melania’s betrayal. I’ve been secluded and debilitated. While I could never compare what I’ve been through to
what my grandparents went through— they witnessed the very worst of humankind— I do know what it’s like to feel destroyed, rendered powerless. It’s a feeling like no other because you are denied the human right to defend yourself.
I have tried to match my grandparents’ fortitude and resilience by putting challenges in front of myself, testing myself to see what I can endure.
The force of Melania’s personality blinded me to the truth about her, and Donald’s, lack of character. But I wasn’t the only one. They have pulled the same trick on (about) half the country. I didn’t see it from the inside out, but
once I was on the outside looking in, it became glaringly obvious. Now I can’t believe how blind I was to the depth of their deception and lack of common decency. I put Melania’s needs ahead of my own. I volunteered to break my
back (literally) for her, for nothing in return, other than a bunch of emojis. And she was happy to oblige. The biggest difference between Melania and me: I would never let a friend crash and burn for my sake. Never.
I would never sit back and watch someone exhaust and sicken themselves for me, but she did. I doubt she lost a minute’s sleep over it.
Her selfishness is so deep, it enables her to keep her distance from the rest of the world. It makes her untouchable; if she doesn’t give a shit about things, they can’t affect her. The wall around her is her defense mechanism. The secret to her happiness is to be authentically and unapologetically skin-deep. She lives
through her external attractiveness and how her appearance is perceived. Her behavior hasn’t changed from her pre–First Lady days; she’s just more visible now.
After our breakup, I asked myself, Did her character change or was she always like this?
Throughout the years of our friendship, our mutual affection, maybe all I really saw was her charming, warm, grounding “personality.” I gave her the benefit of the doubt about her moral character, the virtues of empathy and
honesty I have taught my children. I have tried to live my life by the principle that what you do becomes
who you are.
I was Melania’s enabler, and her using me became the basis of our friendship. I liked feeling needed. I believed she was a noble person and treated her that way, blinding myself to the truth about her to justify our long friendship.
I used to think she was different from her husband. I saw streams of daylight between them and thought Melania was more principled, kind, and honorable than Donald and all of his offspring. I was wrong about that.
A Trump is a Trump is a Trump.
All along, I thought she was one of us.
But at her core, she’s one of them. (pg 334 and 335)
Did the editors and proofreaders think that the "aggrieved Facebook post" quality of this book would make it more relatable, or...? Also, the author's big summations of their relationship aren't accurate to her own retelling of their friendship in this very book (let alone what we also know about the clandestine recordings). Their friendship didn't end with a silence, it ended with a betrayal and an awkward, forced, dwindling superficial relationship when the author thought she could retain her job/position/title somehow.
Also, all of his offspring? Including Barron?
On February 4, 2020, my daughter, Alexi, and I watched the State of the
Union address on TV.
In the First Lady’s box sat talk show host Rush Limbaugh, a bully like Trump, who uses divisive, hateful rhetoric against individuals and groups with less power to claw his way to political and cultural influence. Melania pinned
him with the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the country’s highest honor.
She stood there clapping with a smile plastered on her face, going through the motions, advancing the Trump agenda.
I should have listened to her when she said, “Why are you trying so hard? Why do you care so much?” She’d told me in her way that she was not part of the solution, she was part of the problem. Not speaking up, and not fighting
against the problem, is being a part of the problem, and I learned that the hard way.
Every person is capable of having the courage to be heard, no matter how uncomfortable it may be. So speak up for what is just and never give up until the truth is revealed. I hope my grandparents would be proud of me today.
I’m still here.
The woman I once considered my close friend is gone. (pg 339)
The book is literally dedicated to Melania.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
My first week on the job [at Vogue], I was setting up a wedding shoot at Cipriani Wall Street, for a spot on the Today show. I was responsible for the gowns and accessories. After the cameras stopped rolling, my superiors left me there with the twenty-pound steamer, fifteen black garment bags, and all the shoes and accessories to deal with. Before they took off, my direct boss looked at me with contempt in her eyes and a snarl in her voice and said, "Just because you're a Winston, don't think you won't be carrying all of our bags! See you in the office!"
I wasn't born a Winston. Everyone assumed incorrectly that I'd grown up draped in diamonds, and I was labeled as one of those girls, privileged, spoiled, entitled. Actually, none of the above was true. I was a worker, not a slacker. That woman obviously knew nothing about me. I hauled everything back to the Condé Nast office building at 350 Madison, no problem, no complaints. Two years later, she was gone, and I was just getting started. (pgs 12 and 13)
Do I believe this actually happened? Not really. Do I think the author has probably told everyone she could that Harry Winston is her grandfather? Absolutely.
People outside Vogue noticed my work ethic. I'd get calls about other jobs. Id didn't make any major decisions without consulting Anna [Wintour] first.(pg 13)
Anna Wintour appears in this book nearly as much as Melania Trump.
I played an integral part behind the scenes raising money for one of the only self-funded curatorial departments at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and in transforming a New York City philanthropic event into the global cultural event of the year. During my tenure, the millions we raised paid to maintain and renovate the Costume Institute. I'm proud of that. (pg 18)
You kind of don't doubt why this person was friends with Melania Trump so long.
The story of how [husband] David and I met is pretty cute, if I do say so myself. (pg 32)
Gross!
I invited [Melania] to my farewell lunch from Vogue at the Trustees Dining Room at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, hosted by Anna Wintour and Emily Rafferty, the museum's president, when I resigned from the magazine in 2009. I'd been in charge of nine Met Galas, had three kids by then, and needed to slow down. Anna said, "She never lost sight of her mission: to enable the dinner to be the most fabulous event of the year, any year, in New York, so that it could raise much-needed funds to help the museum. At last count, in Stephanie's time working on the benefit, that has meant approximately forty million dollars." (pg 36)
Has Anna Wintour commented on this book? She's quoted so often she's practically a co-author.
You can go online and read the curated version of [Melania's] past, the things she and a select group of approved sources-- including me-- have revealed, with a heaping pinch of salt. I can tell you what I've personally observed about her family relationships, having spent time with Melania and her parents in living rooms, cars, and planes. (pg 43)
Somehow the mode of transportation factors in?
Whenever I thought about the possibility of Donald's winning the election, I (now regretfully) brushed aside his divisive rhetoric and deplorable behavior, like mocking reporters or other candidates (and their wives) because of their physical appearance. Instead, my mind immediately went to what Melania could do from atop the highest, broadest platform on Earth, and what good I could do as a private citizen if she became an actively engaged First Lady who wanted to effect change and allowed me to give her advice. We could do a hell of a lot.
From the very beginning, Melania told her initiative as First Lady, if that position became a reality, would be about helping children and families. We began what would be a two-year-long mission to make a profound impact in that area. She wanted it to focus on cyberbullying. I thought she'd need to broaden the scope. Her heart was in the right place, but her messaging was off. How could Melania get on a soapbox about cyberbullying when her husband was Public Enemy Number One on that score? It was as if she had no idea what he was tweeting. (pgs 51 and 52)
Or she was "brushing it off" no matter how "regretfully".
"Over the weekend," [Melania] told me, "the family got together and talked about all the stuff we have to do. Donald and all of us talk-- about the planning of the inauguration."
"How exciting!" I quipped.
"Donald said they needed someone with expertise to plan the inauguration," she said. "I mentioned you, and everyone, including Ivanka, said, 'Oh, yes, Stephanie!'" (pg 70)
WOW, LOOK AT HOW IMPRESSIVE THE AUTHOR IS.
I found Mark [Burnett] to be magnetic, gracious, and enthusiastic. I opened my presentation book and showed him what we were planning for the overall theme [of the inauguration]. He said, "It's incredible! Brilliant! You've got fantastic ideas, elegant Stephanie." Like Donald, Mark liked to put an adjective in front of your name and voila!, instant brand. So, to him, my brand was "elegant SWW." Really, he gushed. (pg 100)
Come on, can't you hear that last sentence in Donald's voice?
Donald came out of his office and said, "Stephanie, come with me." I hung up on Rick and followed Donald down the hall. He said, "Great job, really great job." I was thrilled that the president-elect was flashing me the classic double-thumbs-up pose. (I'm easy to please.) (pg 113)
Gross!
Ralph Lauren's team reached out to let me know that "Ralph says 'Good work, Lady W!" Coverage is great. Hillary in Ralph Lauren too!" I loved them. (pg 153)
My eyes rolled so hard I gave myself a headache.
I was in awe just being in the White House. I'd been in there before, on October 26, 1999, when I was the director of special events at Vogue. In the East Room, President Bill Clinton, First Lady Hillary Rodham Clinton, and Anna Wintour hosted photographer Annie Leibovitz and writer Susan Sontag in honor of their collaboration of essays and photographs in Annie Leibowitz: Women, a companion catalog to an exhibition opening the next day at the Corcoran Gallery of Art. David and I, and my brothers, Gordon and Randall, posed for photos with the Clintons and had a wonderful time. (pg 156)
When you drop so many names, you almost forget to tell a story.
The president of the United States extended his arms when he saw me, as he always did, and said, "Hello, Stephanie! Isn't this great? Look at this! He gestured around the room with his hands. He was excited to be there and so was I. He said, "You did a great job on the inauguration!"
"Thank you, Mr. President," I said.
I turned bright red. I'd known Donald forever, but seeing him felt different now. I mean, he was the president. After giving him a hug hello, I zigzagged around the table to Melania. We kiss-kissed, and I sat in the seat next to her she'd saved for me. (pgs 157 and 158)
WOW, THE AUTHOR SURE IS CLOSE TO THE FAMOUS PRESIDENTIAL COUPLE.
Anna Wintour has always said that I'm a hard worker but not the best delegator, and that I need to learn how to trust other people to do their job so that I can do mine even better. I had a clear vision for the First Lady's office, a Lincolnian team of rivals, a bipartisan group of smart, creative women who believed in transparency with the media and hard work. (pg 158)
Is Anna Wintour just going to start narrating her take on the entire book? Just have her give a psychological assessment of the author.
Seriously, how many times do we need reminding that she worked with and knows Anna Wintour?
I'd corralled Vanessa Schneider, who not only worked with me during the inauguration but also in New York during Fashion Week, with a mid-five-figures offer, as well as my cousin Devon Weiss. The only way I was able to beef up salaries was by giving up my own.
Devon, a graduate of Georgetown University with an MBA and a Master of Science in Foreign Science, was bright and ambitious and had worked for me during the PIC. During our weeks together on the PIC, I had been up to my neck in the ineptitude and frenetic activity that had been swirling around us. Devon had tried hard to problem-solve, but I was so frustrated, and I lashed out at her because I could; she was family. Throughout, she held her head up high.
Somehow, I convinced her to stay on in the First Lady's office. Even though I'd been really tough on her, she said yes, feeling a sense of patriotism. (It must run in the family.) (pgs 166 and 167)
Great way to both admit what garbage you were to your own family (that you helped secure a job thanks to your position) and also find a way to compliment yourself.
The following evening, my husband, David, was out to dinner with his friend Ian. I texted him that I’d checked into New York-Presbyterian because the pain in my neck was excruciating and I was in a dire state. They immediately came over to be with me. Once I’d finally acknowledged that something serious was
happening to my body, my physical symptoms went into overdrive. For months, I’d been writing checks that my body couldn’t cash. Months of no sleep, bad nutrition, constant stress, traveling, hauling my heavy bags. Months of tension and burnout. Months of my body’s screaming at me and my turning a deaf ear. I was now paying the price for all of it.
And yet... the show had to go on.
From my hospital bed, IVs in my arms, I continued to work on the IWD lunch scheduled for the following day. Emails between Lindsay, Rickie, and me flew. (pg 229)
Wow! That's dangerous as well as irresponsible!
My intentions with the initiatives were always pure. I have dedicated my life
to supporting children’s causes. This is personal for me. Always has been, always will be. (pg 257)
Minus the whole "bothering to pay attention and vote in elections that directly affect children's causes".
I don’t need to defend my compensation. I’m a well-paid professional and I worked extremely hard, as I always do. I didn’t take a penny to work with Melania during the transition or the inauguration, or for the year we spent together in the White House. I gave up my career. I gave up every partnership. I gave up my salary and title at the White House so that I could hire much-needed
help and to support our initiatives. I landed in the hospital for a month and almost died.
I was not in this to get rich. And if you take into account the amount of money I have now spent on attorney fees to defend myself, I’m in the hole almost a million dollars. It was the worst mistake of my life to get involved with Melania and the Trumps: emotionally, mentally, physically, financially, socially, professionally. I thought I had an amazing friend. But when it really counted, Melania wasn’t there for me. It suddenly became painfully clear to me that she wasn’t really my friend, in the true sense of the word.
This reputation-decimating smear, in the New York Times, the so-called paper of record, was the price I paid for my devotion. And it was too high. It cost me the reputation I’d built for twenty-plus years in media and entertainment. I knew instantly the damage was extensive. Emails and texts were flooding in from journalists asking for comment (a courtesy the Times had not extended), but not from friends and colleagues. I think they were embarrassed for me and didn’t know what to say. (pgs 298 and 299)
Those first two paragraphs... groan.
In my thirties, I was on three magazine covers— Avenue, Hamptons, and
Hampton Style. Now I was the cover girl for the overspending and corruption of the Trump Presidential Inaugural Committee. It was not exactly the trajectory I had in mind when I signed up for this patriotic journey. (pg 312)
Way to subtly work that you've been on magazine covers into your lamenting of your public shame!
I actually had to leave the house to go to my lawyer’s office to listen to the
Cohen recording. We sat in his office with a couple of other associates to listen to it. Every time I spouted “fuck,” “shit,” “douchebag,” and “motherfucker,” I sank a bit deeper into my leather chair. The lawyers heard Melania’s and my nicknames for some of the biggest players, like Dopey and Tuberculosis. (pg 331 and 332)
The fact you said “fuck,” “shit,” “douchebag,” and “motherfucker,” bothered you when you literally worked for a man who famously said and repeatedly defended "Grab 'em by the pussy?"
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Melania's father, Viktor Knavs (Melania changed Kavs" to "Knauss" when she started modeling), is a sweet man, but I wouldn't characterize their relationship as super close. [...]
Father and daughter are not physically affectionate (not at all like Ivanka and Donald). Since Melania provides for her family, she and Viktor have a bit of a role reversal going on. She makes the rules. I imagine it wasn't that way growing up, but it is now.
The first time I met Viktor, I couldn't help noticing he resembled Donald physically, girth, height, and constant suit and tie. The two men are only five years apart in age. During his working years, Victor was dealmaker, selling used cars at a government-owned company. Basically, Melania's father was a lot like Donald.
Also like Donald, Viktor had children by multiple women, fathering Melania's older half brother, Denis Cigelnjak, with a woman not his wife. When Marija Cigelnjak told Viktor about the pregnancy, he allegedly urged her to get an abortion. She had the baby anyway. Viktor denied that the boy was his, and the mother took him to court. A blood test confirmed his paternity, and Viktor was compelled to pay child support until Cigelnjak was eighteen, but he refused to meet or acknowledge him. Melania have never met her half brother either. When [reporter Julia Ioffe asked her about him, she said the story wasn't true. The reporter produced court documents, and Melania backtracked, saying she misunderstood the question, that her father was a private person, and, essentially, to back off. So that's one family secret Melania protected. Perhaps she learned to keep her mouth shut about her family while living under an oppressive government as a child, when one wrong word could get someone thrown in prison. Or maybe she just likes to withhold. (pgs 43 and 44)
I think she's embarrassed/uncomfortable about her father's behavior and for her family privacy.
Despite what you may have read, Melania had told me many times that she wanted Donald to win. (pg 54)
Saying it and actually wanting it are two different things, and we're taking the author at her very shaky word.
About the parade on Pennsylvania Avenue, Donald said, "I don't want floats."
"Okay," I said.
"I want tanks and choppers. Make it look like North Korea." There was no way... He really wanted goose-stepping troops and armored tanks? That would break tradition and terrify half the country.
When Ivanka heard North Korea, she didn't bat an eye.
About our lack of securing a top performer, she said, "My father is the biggest celebrity!" He smiled at her. (pg 113)
...And you kept working for this administration, until you were fired, and you still kept hanging around.
Trump is a branding machine, and maintaining a visually consistent "TRUMP" on all of his collateral was paramount. This included every color palette, inaugural seal adaptation, and font, along with the Presidential Seal. Much to our disbelief, the designs included both Donald J. Trump's and Mike Pence's names. Historically, it should have only the president's name.
"Tom [Barrack, Inaugural committee chair] and Rick [Gates, deputy chairman] approved the Trump-Pence lock-up," [producer] Jon [Reynaga] said after he had researched it, and told me no previous inaugural lock-ups had both names. I was picturing Melania and Donald's first dance with POTUS and VP splashed across the screen.
Why give Pence's name such prominence and defy tradition? Was this a positioning of Pence as Trump's equal in standing in the administration? I'd heard rumors from all kinds of sources about Mike Pence being owned-- lock, stock, and Bible-- by billionaire corporate overlords who intended to elevate him to president as soon as possible. (pg 137)
More on that tricky Mike Pence later.
Inauguration woes!
I marched right over to Trump Tower and showed the lock-up to Melania and Donald. Jon [Reynaga, producer], who was with Rick [Gates, deputy chairman] and Tom the same time I was with the Trumps, later told me that Tom [Barrack, Inaugural committee chair] took a call from Donald, hung up, and said, "That fucking bitch!"
The new lock-up design hit my inbox within the hour with Mike Pence's name removed.
Later that night after I got home, I had second thoughts about what I'd done. I'd really pissed off Tom and I didn't really want to be on his bad side. but I was just watching out for Melania and Donald.
I called Melania in such a panic that she put Donald on the call. "Am I going to end up on the bottom of the Potomac River?" I asked them.
"Don't worry, Stephanie," said Donald. "You're fine." (pg 137)
Ralph's Lauren's team emailed to confirm that Melania was going to wear all five items at all the planned events. She replied to me that she wasn't going to wear the bag or the hat. "Won't wear it. Don't tell RL team!" After all the work that went into that hat, I was sad it wouldn't see the light of day. I wish I'd known earlier to give them a heads-up, but at least her elegant updo made up for the tragic loss.
Melania lands in DC. (pg 146)
There was a hat?
[American designer and friend of both the author and Melania] Rachel Roy was watching on TV from her hotel room in Washington. She texted a photo she'd taken of the screen showing Melania's head completely blocking Ivanka's. "Happy MT blocked IT! 😂 😂 😂"
I started laughing so hard, David thought something was wrong with me. (pg 152)
One story the author covered a lot on her press tour for this book was the fact that she and Melania worked to block Ivanka Trump from being in the official inauguration photo.
I hope the ghosts of presidents past don't strike me down for saying it, but when Melania and I toured [the White House], my first thought was, What a dump! It looked shabby, tired. Everything was old and sad, from the furniture to the carpeting to the paint job. The rooms themselves were a mess. Mostly what the past administration had left us were a few dozen broken computers and keypads piled high at the entrance to Melania's office. I was shocked. (pgs 156 and 157)
When you've been to Trump's Mar-a-Lago and think it's unremarkable, your opinion on design (and cleanliness) no longer matters.
The only person the RNC had assigned to Melania during that period, Marcia Lee Kelly, had practically begged to be Melania's chief of staff. Melania forwarded Kelly's overly flattering email, proving the point. We agreed Marcia wasn't the right fit for her. During the inauguration, she didn't seem to be good with follow-up, failed to send requested information, spelled names wrong, and made mistakes on guest lists. I couldn't figure out if Marcia was not great with follow-through of if she was keeping information from me. Besides that, the Trumps are all about image, and Marcia's attitude was a bit too rough to represent Melania. (Kelly is currently the president of the Republican National Committee.) (pg 159)
Ivanka had garnered a reputation as being one of the biggest leakers of stories that made Jared and her look good-- and, perhaps equally important, made everyone else look bad. (pg 186)
That has to be one of the most obvious "secrets" ever.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
On June 28, she told me, "Miss you. Working on my speech for the convention. Love you."
That sent a chill down my spine. Melania had good ideas, but she was not a native English speaker or a skillful writer. I called her and suggested she work with a professional and mentioned the name of someone I knew. I followed up with a text: "Do you want me to introduce you? I will never bother you, but I am here for you and I would love to help you and guide you. You know you can trust me and I know I can trust you. I love you and all I care about is making sure you are protected and ready."
She replied with the usual "love you" and "you're the best." But she said she didn't want to talk to my guy "for now." (pg 55)
It wasn't quite an "I told you so," [having a political journalist spot that Melania's convention speech was plagiarized from Michelle Obama] but I had been suspicious about why Melania was allowed to work on her own speech for even one minute. You'd think someone would be paying closer attention to the woman who could be First Lady.
Unlike, say, Ivanka, who probably had the top five people on the campaign working on her speech with focus group vetting and multiple full-staff rehearsals, Melania had no one in her corner. She didn't have a handpicked, loyal communications team backing her up. One could say that she didn't participate in the primaries, it stands to reason that none of the campaign staff knew her well or cared that much about her. But Melania was going out on that stage as the wife of the nominee. Out of the most basic respect and consideration, someone of high caliber should have helped her, or at least read her speech or done due diligence by running it through a plagiarism search program on the Internet. Melania was treated like a second-class citizen and her speech was an afterthought, dashed off. (pgs 55 and 56)
SEE, IT IS CLEARLY THE AUTHOR WHO CARED ABOUT MELANIA ALL ALONG! I can't believe I'm saying this, but Ivanka Trump, for her many, many, many, many, oh so many, many, many faults was actually an involved public figure in her father's campaign and Presidency, often in a way his current wife clearly had no interest in being.
It's believed that Melania was so mortified by what happened at the convention that she brushed her hands off and said "That's that" about doing another damn thing for the campaign. In truth, she did take five giant steps back, but not because she was mortified or embarrassed. It was obvious no one had her back, so this gave her an excuse to stay in the background. (pg 57)
She wasn't interested in being a public figure that works, less so "no one had her back."
As far as I know, Melania never forgave Rupert Murdoch [for publishing her nudes]. Knowing how the press operated, I spent the weekend at my in-laws' home in Quogue, locked in my bedroom, researching Max and those who've graced the cover, to legitimize it as a real fashion publication and not just some spank rag. My kids banged on my door, asking me to come outside and join them. Instead, since Melania didn't have anyone on the campaign team she could trust, I stepped up and wrote a memo for her in case the press asked her to defend herself, not that she needed to say anything. (pg 58)
LITERALLY FORSAKING HER CHILDREN FOR MELANIA!
Melania was automatically an extension of [her husband]. She had never really established her own identity, and-- no fault to her-- she was just fine being Mrs. Trump. But now she was going to be First Lady, and "just fine" wasn't going to cut it. She'd need an identity makeover.
She knew this truth and she needed someone to help get her there. I was the person she asked to join her on this journey. She knew I was loyal, to a fault, and that I had no ulterior motive other than to do everything in my power to help her succeed. (pg 66)
I don't understand the "no fault to her" part. It's kind of an odd sentence. No fault to her because she never really established her own identity, or no fault to her that she was just fine being Mrs. Trump? Both of which, incidentally, are through her decisions so they are her fault.
Also, the author's humble brag.
I asked some of my friends about the possibility of my working with Melania in the White House, and they all said, "DO NOT work with the Trumps, Stephanie! ANY of them!"
My sixth sense warned me not to trust the Trumps. But my heart said, Melania is not really one of them. She's one of us." (pg 69 and 70)
Groan.
Melania wanted to put out an op-ed asking the nation (and the press) to uphold the long-standing tradition of respecting the privacy of the president's young children. It started, "Today, First Lady-Elect Mrs. Melania Trump released the following statement..."
[Producer] Jon [Reynaga] read it and asked, "Who drafted this? Sounds like Rick! She is not the First Lady-Elect. She doesn't hold an elected position but a ceremonial one. Protocol office will know but until she becomes FLOTUS, I think she is officially called 'Melania Trump, the wife of President-Elect Donald Trump.' Basic mistakes like that cannot be made! And seriously, someone who knows the protocol should be checking this for her. The tone sounds cold from a mother."
No one, except for me and my team, was looking out for Melania's best interests whatsoever.
More responsibilities were added to my plate every day. I was at my wit's end and flooded with stress hormones. On top of the inauguration, where I needed staff to help manage and execute all that was being asked of me with a tiny team, no budget, and no contract, I was also helping Melania by giving her advice, meeting with stylists and designers, and creating exclusive editorial content with the media companies for her. (pg 95)
I hoped that a miracle would happen and all of the factions involved with planning the inauguration would come together in a patriotic spirit. If we didn't, the big weekend would be a disaster, an embarrassment to the Trumps and a humiliation seen around the world. I would not let that happen. Melania, for one, did not deserve that. Our nation, however divided, needed to at least feel proud of the celebration of a new leader. I dug deep and kept going, one frustrating day at a time. (pg 130)
I'm starting to really resent "divided".
Still, I wasn't going to let [potential press secretary/spokesperson that the First Lady's office wasn't allowed enough money to hire] Jessica [Boulanger]'s loss, my increasingly brutal neck pain, and my ignorance about protocol dishearten me. Ivanka had quickly hired her staff, including Goldman Sach's Dina Powell. We were off to a slow start. Previous administrations and shown up with full staffs, raring to go. We had me. (pg 161)
Journalists I'd known and worked with for decades asked constantly about my title and duties. Their guesses were as good as mine. I'd been he eyes and ears throughout, and now I'd agreed to be her as-yet-uncontracted, unpaid senior advisor and chief strategist. Privately, these reporters told me they disapproved of my loyalty to the Trumps, but they respected the work I was doing. I didn't tell Melania every time a reporter asked me, "But why in the living hell are you working for the Trumps?" She never doubted my loyalty for a minute. And why would she? I'd given up my career to work on the PIC and given up all partnerships. I stuck around despite what I'd seen from Trump cronies on the PIC, despite friends urging me to run (not walk) away from Trump World. But if I left, Melania would have no one looking out for her. Ivanka would steamroll her. Donald would probably prefer his wife to do nothing but inflate his ego and raise their son. The number of people who could see the possibilities about Melania's potential as First Lady could be countered on one hand: Melania, me, our friends Pamela Gross and Rachel Roy, and Lindsay, maybe.(pg 166)
"What should I send to Reince [Pribus] today" Melania requested.
I drafted a short message. We really weren't asking for the moon. Just enough to bring in one or two excellent, experienced people. Was that too much to ask for the First Lady of the United States? It felt like they wanted to keep the East Wing offices empty, as if the budget and vetting process was being used like a weapon to prevent Melania from filling them. They seemed to enjoy disenfranchising the East Wing so they could totally control Melania. Ivanka was relentless and was determined to be the First Daughter Lady and to usurp office space out from under Melania; she wanted to be the only visible female Trump on the premises and she was actively using her influence with Katie Walsh, Reince Pribus, and Hope Hicks to thwart our efforts.
Ivanka wasn't playing by the rules, but she never, ever got in trouble. (pgs 169 and 170)
"First Daughter Lady," yikes.
For the record, not all First Ladies are put on the cover of Vogue. Michelle Obama and Hillary Clinton, yes. Laura Bush and Barbara Bush, no. Melania wasn't going to do anything for Vogue or any other magazine if she wasn't going to be on the cover. "Give me a break!" she texted. "Forget it."
To add insult to injury, Melania told me, "Ivanka is trying to get the White House photo shoot and profile."
I'd heard as much from my sources and told Melania, "She's angling for the cover!"
It never happened. (pg 170 and 171)
Once again, the author sniffs at Vogue's political bias but says nothing about the fact it endorsed Not Trump for President?
Rachel [Roy] checked in, and when she heard this story, she was livid. She said, "What are these reports of MT & DT sleeping in separate rooms? ALL PRESIDENTS have separate rooms, why wasn't this a story then? Such bull!!!"
I agreed. (pg 172)
Subtle!
Melania wrote to Reince Priebus about my contract and [White House access] badge, but he wouldn't get back to her for hours. Can you imagine someone ignoring any other First Lady like that? It was so disrespectful. Apparently they didn't care that this was a priority for her. I watched and listened to her do her best to fast-track approval for my badge, and yet, it didn't materialize. Was it paranoid to think that the West Wingers did not want me physically in the building? I think not. (pg 174)
The White House wanted "the best people," but not the most qualified or intelligent? In order to be best (hmmm, that phrase had a nice ring to it), our candidates only needed to be one thing: Donald Trump loyalists.
I was a Melania Trump loyalist. I wondered how long I'd last in this environment. It wasn't like anyone was trying to lock me down; my contract languished in red tape. (pg 180)
That phrase does not have a ring to it. Put it down.
I remember walking into the East Wing dining room and finding the butler, ushers, chefs, and florists seated on one side of a long table. The head butler, William "Buddy" Carter, had been at the White House since the first Bush administration, and it was obvious from his frown that he wasn't a Trump enthusiast. From the look of it, they all distrusted us. Many of them had been hired by the Clintons, Bushes, or Obamas, all enemies of the Trumps. They probably assumed that anyone associated with the family had to be as offense as Donald.
We sat down on the other side of the table and introduced ourselves. They followed in turn, barely able to get their names out. We just wanted to meet them and understand how things worked. But this wasn't going to be easy. We didn't know anything and started asking questions. How many events did they typically do per week? How many people were available? What were their individual roles? When we were planning the Governors' Dinner, how did we coordinate the menu?
They answered our questions tersely, coldly. It was a tough room. On our request, the kitchen staff brought out some cookies for us to sample, and as delicious as they were, they weren't exactly the kind of desserts that Melania would go for.
I walked out of there worried for Melania having to live in a house where everyone in it despised her by proxy. Since I was spending more time there than Melania was, I felt the chill up close and personal.
Housekeeping item #208: Hire a food taster for Melania? (pg 182)
What the author is choosing not to mention is the fact the White House wait staff, including William "Buddy" Carter, is predominantly Black (and has been for generations). They are literally forced to serve whoever is President by nature of their job and having to serve a violent, proudly racist President who called for the deaths of the Central Park 5 (who were all teenagers later proved innocent by DNA evidence and Trump never apologized) and whose Presidency was endorsed by the official newspaper of the KKK, among many, many, many other examples of Trump's racism (both specifically anti-Black and general). Trump also does not have a great reputation of paying or treating his service workers well. So really, their reaction (which I have no doubt was overblown by the author) is absolutely appropriate.
Her ridiculous "Many of them had been hired by the Clintons, Bushes, or Obamas, all enemies of the Trumps." handily overlooks the fact that while Trump percieved all those families to be enemies, they have generally politely respected the Office and the transfer of power, including the Obamas extending courtesies to the Trumps that were absolutely not extended by the Trumps to the Bidens, and the Bush family welcoming the Trumps at various prominent funerals (more on that later), and of course, the Clintons attending Trump's Inauguration. To say nothing of the fact all of those families were political opponents of the others at one time or another, and managed to by all accounts do their jobs.
Making a cutesy joke about them poisoning Melania's food proves why the author was friendly with the Trumps until she could not longer be because they forced her out.
With no salary or acknowledgement of a definitive position, I had to wonder if I should continue. David wanted me to quit. But if I did, Melania would be at the mercy of the West Wing. She'd become a laughingstock or irrelevant, and I'd waste the greatest opportunity I'd ever had to help her. I had to psyche myself up and remember that with Melania's enthusiasm and participation, her platform and the right initiative, we could effect real, positive change. (pg 184)
"Laughingstock or irrelevant" as in it can't be both?
I wanted to be reimbursed [for the expenses from the RNC], don't get me wrong. I would have loved to draw a salary, too! But if I'd kept the six-figure salary offered to me as chief advisor, I'd have had little or no support staff. Dividing it up solved a problem for me, and for Melania. So essentially, I was paying to serve my country-- physically, mentally, and financially. I was being depleted on all fronts.(pg 184)
Can you imagine Barbara Bush or Hillary Clinton being ignored or denied by West Wing bureaucrats the freedom to send out a press release to announce her choice for senior advisor? It was like Priebus, Walsh, Hicks, and Joe Hagin, deputy chief of staff for operations, put all of Melania's emails, texts, memos, and phone transcripts into a paper shedder. (pg 192)
On February 3, while Ivanka was spending the weekend in DC, Melania joined her husband at Mar-a-Lago for the Sixtieth International Red Cross Ball. Naively, I thought this trip would be well received. She would be seen in public, spending quality time with her husband.
But the media found a way to trash her anyway.
When Melania arrived in Palm Beach that day, she stepped off Air Force One in a red Givenchy cape dress. I'd kept hammering the "American designers only" rule, but what Melania wants, Melania gets.
Kate Bennett tweeted, "looks to me like @flotus is wearing this $2,000 @givency. ✋, it's me again, #fashiondetective," with a link to the dress's page on Net-a-Porter.
Vanessa Friedman, the New York Times fashion director and chief fashion critic, requested a comment about why Mrs. Trump wore a French designer, and I said, "It was in honor of National Wear Red Day, which is to highlight the importance and raise awareness about heart disease...Mrs. Trump is a proud and longtime supporter of American fashion. She appreciates fashion as art. As a former model, she has always been a patron of the world's most distinguished designers both here and abroad. Mrs. Trump buys from an international mix of brands because that is what reflects her uniquely American life experience and style."
At the Red Cross Ball, Melania wore a hot-pink Dior gown. She did wear garments by American designers-- the Row and Derek Lam-- at the Super Bowl party at the Trump International Golf Club on February 5, but the media didn't care. They only reported Melania's slipups.
I was incensed. We tried so hard to get it right, and they roasted her anyway. She said to me, "Why do you care? You can't win."
But I wanted to win them over. I knew the media and the whole world could be convinced to love Melania, too. If only she'd stick with the plan! And if only I had more help to do it! (pg 193 and 194)
First Ladies are almost always trashed by the press in some form, given the nature of their truly limiting position (having to remain somehow apolitical in a political position). It's absolutely frustrating, and many feel like they can't seem to make a move without criticism (biographies of Michelle Obama and Laura Bush report similar feelings). But to flat-out "give up" (which indicates trying in the first place) the way Melania did is kind of historic.
Melania was not content with an apology and retraction from that Maryland blogger Tarpley and the Daily Mail about writing in the summer of 2016 that she'd once been an escort. She re-sued the British tabloid in New York for defamation to the tune of $150 million. The language of the complaint raised eyebrows. It said that the plaintiff (Melania) "had the unique, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, as an extremely famous and well-known person, as well as a former professional model, brand spokesperson and successful businesswoman, to launch a broad-based commercial brand in multiple product categories"-- apparel, accessories, makeup, hair care, jewelry, fragrance-- "each of which could have garnered multi-million dollar business relationships for a multi-year term during which plaintiff is one of the most photographed women in the world."
Immediately we got a query from journalist Julie Bykowicz, then a reporter at the Associated Press, who said, "That has been interpreted to mean she intends to make money from her exposure as FLOTUS. Is this the case? Is that appropriate? Do you have any other comments on this issue?"
Melania instructed me to shut down Jessica from commenting on the multiple press inquiries about the lawsuit Charles Harder, her attorney, replied to the AP himself. "The first lady has no intention of using her position for profit and will not do so," he said. "It is not a possibility. Any statements to the contrary are being misinterpreted."
Two weeks later, Harder refiled the claim, taking out the phrase "once in a lifetime" and shifting the impact of the "escort" slur toward Melania's feelings. (pgs 194 and 195)
A few things here... "escort" is not a slur. The author is doing a great Michael Scott impression here. Did the author mean "smear", as in a dangerous lie affecting the First Lady's reputation? More on this in a bit.
As far as Melania's suffering great anguish about being misunderstood by the public, it did not happen. Ever the pragmatist, she reasoned that since she had no control over people's thoughts, why should she care what they believed? Pretty incredible wisdom, if you can actually pull that off. Mere mortals cannot, but our superwoman First Lady could and did! (pg 195)
Gross!
I chalked up the congressional address as a win for Team Melania. We had fought for and gotten those box seats, and Melania had appeared dignified and real. But it was exhausting to fight these battles. Attempting to match Ivanka’s insincerity was wearing me out and I started to feel guilty about my own. I wish I could have been authentic and told her how I felt about her and her attempts to sabotage her stepmother, the First Lady, and maybe we could even have hashed out our differences, but that wasn’t in the cards. Every day, every hour, felt to me like drawing fresh lines in the shifting sand between the two women. I knew where I stood: on Melania’s side, no matter what. (pg 224)
Unless Ivanka was nice to you for a second, as we've seen.
We went into the hospital’s Bunny Mellon Healing Garden, where Melania dug in some dirt with a little shovel and dropped a few flower seeds—morning glories, symbols of love and renewal—into the holes.
See, Melania can garden, too!
The hospital tour and seed planting lasted about two hours, and Melania shook hands with every single kid, parent, doctor, and nurse. One girl, a cancer patient, and Melania made an emotional connection and the girl said meeting the First Lady made her feel better. When they hugged, it truly was a touching moment. (pg 225)
I genuinely laughed at "See, Melania can garden, too!"
The following evening, my husband, David, was out to dinner with his friend Ian. I texted him that I’d checked into New York-Presbyterian because the pain in my neck was excruciating and I was in a dire state. They immediately came over to be with me. Once I’d finally acknowledged that something serious was
happening to my body, my physical symptoms went into overdrive. For months, I’d been writing checks that my body couldn’t cash. Months of no sleep, bad nutrition, constant stress, traveling, hauling my heavy bags. Months of tension and burnout. Months of my body’s screaming at me and my turning a deaf ear. I was now paying the price for all of it.
And yet... the show had to go on.
From my hospital bed, IVs in my arms, I continued to work on the IWD lunch scheduled for the following day. Emails between Lindsay, Rickie, and me flew. (pg 229)
Again, that is dangerous and a terrible idea.
Meanwhile, Melania was sending me a million ❤️s per day. On March 7, I woke up to her text, “Good morning! ❤️ How are you feeling? ❤️ I love you! ❤️ Donald is saying get well soon. That he loves having you around in the White House.❤️” She sent a link, too, to a glowing article in the Washington Post with the headline “Melania Trump to Host White House Luncheon Marking International Women’s Day.” She was happy and proud of the portrayal.
I busted my ass to make her look good. I worked hard to create a positive persona for her by collaborating with the media. She was the First Lady. That was my job. I was doing all this work in secret, with no official title, and no
salary. I believed she wanted this, because she told me so. I didn’t need to be recognized publicly, but I did feel a need to be respected for the work I was doing and acknowledged as a member of Melania’s team by the people who
needed to know.
As the sacrifices I endured grew daily, I questioned myself more and more over why I was destroying myself for her legacy—or lack thereof. I’d put myself in the hospital, ignored mounting pain to keep working for her.
I kept going back to the fact that this was my patriotic duty, to help our country in any way I could. But, as time went on, it seemed more and more like Melania’s interest(s) were being stonewalled and thwarted, with constant interference and road blocks. At one point, I thought perhaps Melania’s interests in fulfilling her role as First Lady were waning, and the drive to see them through to fruition was mostly coming from me. I felt like I was a passenger in a speeding car, heading into gridlock, and realizing no one was behind the wheel. (pg 230 and 231)
No contract, no phone, no communications. I’d already had my neck sliced open, and this felt like multiple stabs in the back. I didn’t blame Lindsay or Melania. The West Wingers had wanted me gone from my first day. I was nothing but a thorn in their side, the one person who fought for Melania and her office and made demands on her behalf. Now, with my being out of commission, they could finally get rid of me. (pg 238)
I genuinely wonder if any of the West Wingers actually knew who the author is?
I sent Melania an email on April 2 that was probably way too raw for someone with her emotional detachment to deal with, but I had to get the feelings out. It’s a bit rambling, but I was on pain meds...
Hi BB,
It has taken me quite some time to get this to you properly. The daily grief I have felt has been overwhelming and the anger is self-explanatory, not only for what I have endured in the past month, but for what this inauguration has done to us. I committed myself to you and DJT in hopes that your strength and ability to make a difference in this world would have me by your side making this a better world, too. I would do anything for you and I love you and trust you and will always be your trusted Senior Advisor, Chief Strategist, Best Friend and sister... and I hope you know that.
Look at what WE did and prepared!! With NO help. NO guidance. And no support. We will prevail my dear First Lady. I must recover. I love you!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ (pg 239)
Yeah, that reads like pain meds.
If you judged solely by texts, Lindsay Reynolds was excited to have me back in the East Wing. “Welcome back!!!!!!” she texted that summer, with “Love you!!!”s galore. But deep down in her heart, I’d bet bigly that she would have been happy never to see me again (pg 248)
BETTING BIGLY.
The story behind Melania’s “storm stilettos” or “flood heels” has more to do with office politics than shoes. By the summer of Donald’s first year as president, Melania had had enough of the West Wing’s expectation that she drop everything to be available at a moment’s notice for her husband. Part of her
resentment about it had to do with the West Wing’s glacial pace whenever she asked for anything from them. Everything she did was met with the same resistance: sending a press release, hiring staff, a contract (hello), granting interviews— everything had to be approved by the West Wing, and they moved at the speed of continental drift on all of her requests.
The only way Melania could exert any power was by saying no. She wasn’t going to cancel a facial because Hope Hicks or General John Kelly (Donald’s new chief of staff) asked her to, say, accompany her husband on a tour of a
storm-ravaged region, shake hands, and throw paper towels so that he’d appear to be caring and human. Her reply, which she relayed through Lindsay and which eventually got to me, was to say that she couldn’t possibly be ready to get on a plane without several days’ advance warning. Does it take three days to pack for a four-hour trip? No. But that was not the point. (pg 252)
See, Melania's questionable fashion choices that sent curious messages weren't her not caring about what she was doing, which was the bare minimum! It was her being frustrated by the West Wing!
The girls in the East Wing, especially Lindsay [Reynolds], Rickie [Lloyd], and [Stephanie] Grisham, had been icing me out about the details, menu, press invites, State Department details... the things I used to handle. Their exclusion felt personal, and it was. I couldn’t get access to the information or do anything on my own because I was locked out of my computer again. I apologized to Melania numerous times for bothering her about the details, but her guests were going to miss the State Department’s submission deadline. I explained I was being thwarted by people who didn’t like me or didn’t want me around, but I still needed to get things done. Melania asked, “Why do you allow yourself to care what they think about you?” I cared, A. L.O.T. I felt they were out to get me. (pgs 260 and 261)
First note, I'm sorry, the "girls"? Seriously?
Also, we have the author's writing style (more on THAT later) showing with "I cared, A. L.O.T." which... you really just couldn't say "I cared incredibly deeply"?
Stephanie Grisham started throwing her weight around and portrayed me as a cat among the pigeons, causing commotion, speaking to the press, and stepping out of line, but all I was was a cat chasing her tail. I returned to the White House to assist the First Lady. I wanted to show up to work without being harassed or having to keep explaining who I was. If I didn’t say I was there working for Melania, I wouldn’t get past the front gate. What was I supposed to say? I was delivering a pizza? (pg 264)
Stephanie Grisham apparently had at least something to say about the author in her own angry tell-all.
Bad week for Melania. On October 10, Donald’s first wife, Ivana Trump, released her memoir about motherhood, Raising Trump, and told ABC News, “I have the direct number to the White House but I don’t really want to call him there because Melania is there, and I don’t really want to cause any kind of
jealousy or something like that because I’m basically first Trump wife, okay? I’m first lady, okay?”
When I saw the video, I texted Melania the unflattering photo of Ivana that was all over the news, which was mean-girl of me, but I was only supporting my girl. (pg 265)
Did Melania really feel threatened at all by Ivana? She's married to a man who discards women after they pass a certain age, apparently, an age Ivana had long passed.
Now's a great time to mention that Ivana testified in her divorce deposition that her husband beat and raped her during their marriage.
On October 18, Second Lady Karen Pence, a former art teacher, held a press conference at Florida State University in Tallahassee and presented her art therapy initiative with the cute motto “Healing with HeART.” In her interview with Fox News, she explained that arts and crafts were proven to be beneficial
for mental health and could be used to treat cancer, anxiety, eating disorders, and autism.
In its coverage, Vogue reported, “As the country patiently waits for First Lady Melania Trump to actually begin implementing her murky anti-cyberbullying agenda (starting, presumably, with her own husband?), Second
Lady Karen Pence has beaten her to the punch, formally announcing today that her chosen cause will be art therapy.”
Keep in mind that Karen Pence was not a threat to Ivanka. She also had a qualified staff and prior personal experience doing art therapy. We had no staff, there was nothing in Melania’s history or experience to form the basis of our program, and we were fighting resistance from forces in the East Wing and West Wing.
Melania wanted to launch! She was frustrated that she hadn’t. (pg 266)
Melania's interest and ambition varies wildly depending on what tangent the author is currently on, it seems.
Grisham’s reasoning was that no one would get an exclusive interview with the First Lady. Was she a press secretary or a prison warden? I knew the answer to that. The East Wing felt more like a jail every day. (pg 268)
Literally comparing an executive White House job to prison.
On November 16, 2017, Melania and I were flying to New York on her plane, along with her parents, when I showed her a New York Post article titled “Trump to Lift Ban on Importing Elephant Trophies from Africa.” The Fish and Wildlife Service had something to do with it, but for the most part, Trump was
to blame.
“The family” strikes again.
“Such cruelty! The brutality of killing elephants, it’s horrifying,” I said. “The boys should be ashamed of themselves.” The story gave credit where it was due: “President Trump has decided to let big game hunters like his sons Eric and Donald Jr. import the heads of elephants into the United States, reversing an Obama-era ban from 2014.” The National Rifle Association trumpeted the decision.
Melania was not sympathetic to “the boys’” lobbying efforts for guns and hunting or the bizarre need to hang a dead animal head on the wall. That night, she did some lobbying of her own, and her plea directly to Donald actually
worked. It didn’t always, but this time, thankfully, it did. The next day, Trump tweeted, “Put big game trophy decision on hold until such time as I review all conservation facts.”
The sudden change of heart was because of Melania, not because of pressure from foreign governments or Ellen DeGeneres, or his seeing gruesome animal-slaughter images on the Internet. I felt proud to have had something to do with it.
She was able to make a difference that day and would have done so much more had she not been derailed so often, so aggressively. (pg 269 and 270)
The author is literally claiming credit for the President taking back (temporarily, anyway) the terrible things he did.
Jared, Ivanka, the whole West Wing, and the East Wing, for that matter, were sick of my trying to make the First Lady look good. I told Melania, “They all want me out of the way.” She knew I was right (pg 289)
...Did she, though? Because I really get the feeling these people would have no idea who Stephanie Winston Wolkoff is.
I thought about the question my mom had once asked me: “What would you tell your daughter to do if you saw her suffering the way I see you?”
She was right, and she wasn’t alone. She, Bruce, David, my children, my brothers, my in-laws, and my friends all saw the emotional and physical toll working for Melania took on me and had begged me to walk away from that
toxic environment. They worried about my overall health and well-being (how ironic). I made a promise to them all that as soon as I delivered Melania’s initiative to her, I would walk away. Until then, I would bear the daily onslaught of hate, resentment, humiliation, and antagonistic behavior. Bullying, really.
I promised my mom I’d check in daily. (pg 294)
"Bullying, really."
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You've probably seen by now that the author has a certain "relatable" style, or style that she thinks is relatable. It gets worse, I promise.
Melania also looks after her parents' appointments and health care in the US. It's a big responsibility, one she shoulders without complaint. That said, when the Knavs are in a different city, Melania is happy to have some breathing room. who can't relate to that? She's like Marlene Dietrich. She vonts to be alone. (pg 44)
Couple of things here. One, that was Greta Garbo, with one of her most famous lines if not her most famous, from the film Grand Hotel, not Marlene Dietrich. Two, please do not compare Melania Trump to Greta Garbo or Marlene Dietrich.
When I mentioned the inauguration to friends, they reacted as if I'd enlisted in Satan's army. "But this isn't about Trump or the administration, it's about making America proud," I said-- and believed it! I thought I was doing my patriotic duty. They said: R.U.N. (pg 73)
Really? How exactly would "R.U.N." even be rendered in speech? "Ar, yoo, enn!"? This annoying attempt at folksiness doesn't even make sense.
It's fine to use your personal Wi-Fi network," [deputy chairman of the PIC, Rick Gates] said [while briefing the author about the inauguration planning]. "It is some encryption, although as we know anything is hackable these days."
That made me feel assured-- not! (pg 76)
"Not"?
I asked a very reasonable question: "Where's your stockroom?" I wanted to see items from past inaugurals, from past administrations.
Didn't exist. No storage room.
Two and a half weeks before showtime, and [event planning firm] Hargrove had nothing to show us?
"Not to worry," [Hargrove vice president of events] Ron [Bracco] said. "We've been doing this since the 1940s."
What a relief. Not. (pg 124)
"Not!"
The next we [the author and Angella Reid, chief usher of the White House] met, our meeting didn't go as I'd expected. She said she "sensed a bit of frustration" when we chatted about budgets for the events. She got that right! I was hoping she'd share information from past administrations, but instead she wanted to give me a class in "record management," telling me, "all administration records leave with the outgoing administration, so we don't have copies of detailed event costs on hand." I J.U.S.T. wanted someone to share the most basic information with me, like what I should be budgeting for any of the First Lady's upcoming events. (pg 161)
Again, this spelling of words with capital letters and periods-- why? Especially to (I assume) connote emphasis? Especially when it means something different in the several situations where the author has used it already?
I sent [Melania's chief of staff] Lindsay [Reynolds] an email on January 27 that said, "As I have expressed, we have a few other people in mind that Mrs. Trump and I have already interviewed and that she likes. We must handle this very carefully and not have any sidebar conversations with possible staff as no one should be considered until you and I have spoken. Mrs. Trump cares very much that her messaging is kept internal and we do not want staff discussing possible positions that do not even exist or ones that they would not be considered for. I must meet and approve everyone considered and then we can see if it's appropriate to meet with Mrs. Trump."
Lindsay probably read my emails and said, "Fuck you, Stephanie!" to the screen. But I'd been given instructions by the First Lady, and I followed through. (pg 169)
I just... "Lindsay probably read my emails and said, "Fuck you, Stephanie!" to the screen."?
Yeah, I'm sure that's what she did. The author seems to have this weirdly inflated negative view of herself that she thinks is held by people who probably barely remember who she is.
Melania could wear the suit Karl Lagerfield had designed for her that she'd wanted to wear to the swearing-in. It was glorious, a white cashmere jacket and pencil skirt. She loved this suit the way a little girl loves a basket of kittens. (pg 208)
Please, please return to creative writing class. Or take one in the first place. Please. You seriously couldn't say "She adored this suit with adorable childlike enthusiasm"?
[Nine-year-old daughter] Alexi and I wandered down to the restaurant for dinner Friday night. Donald and Melania were already seated, just the two of them. They waved us over and asked us to join them. Alexi had known the Trumps her whole life, but this was her first meal with the president and First Lady. She was polite and charming and sat through Donald's monologue about his Electoral College victory with the patience of a saint. (pg 210)
This always qualifies as what an amazing person the author is, since her child is patient and quiet when an adult (an adult, for that matter, she has known her whole life and is probably tuning out, not that the President would notice) is speaking.
No matter what else was happening with Donald’s presidency, Melania’s initiative, or my feelings of frustration, Melania and I never stopped 😘 😘 😘 😘 😘ing. On January 6, in a series of tweets, Donald said, “I went from VERY successful businessman to top TV star to President of the United States (on my first try). I think that would qualify as not smart, but genius... and a very stable genius at that!” I sent Melania a link to an article about his remark, and she texted 🤓, the nerd-face emoji, which we used to denote goofy affection for each other. It was a favorite of ours, along with 😝. The Mueller investigation was in full swing. The country was deeply divided. But we were 😂ing. It was all silliness... until things turned 😩. (pg 280)
I'm not averse to emojis, I understand they help communicate tone, but seeing them used like this is insufferable, especially because the author can't stop commenting on them. In short, her use of emojis makes me 🤢.
Meanwhile, Clown Prince Jared still didn’t have security clearance to do classified work, and yet, there he was doing it, every day. (pg 302)
Did Melania come up with "Clown Prince"?
It must have occurred to them that, if it became necessary to blame someone for the fuzzy finances, they could lay it at the feet of Melania’s pal. It was a brilliantly conceived and even better executed plan. Jon had warned me but it went in one ear and out the other because I knew I was doing everything by the book. That didn’t matter. Ivanka was right. Perception is more important than reality.
Right then and there, poring over year-old texts, I solved the riddle of “Who Is She?”: She— me— is a sucka! (pg 315)
A sucka? Not a sucker?
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The author never claims to be a feminist, to the best of my knowledge. But unfortunately we live in a time when it's easier than ever to misappropriate feminism for whatever cause. The author is willing to work in the administration of one of the most openly, enthusiastically misogynistic candidates in recent history, but wants you to know about sexism.
When Pussygate drops, the author thinks back over her own history with sexual harassment, at least a little.
Back in the early nineties, I worked in the music business for Ron Delsener, the legendary granddaddy of rock promoters, the boy from Queens who created the concept of a massive outdoor concerts in Central Park. Ron had booked all the greats all over the world-- the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, the Beatles, Depeche Mode, Janis Joplin, Simon & Garfunkel, you name it! He talked faster than I did, out of both sides of his mouth, and said things like, "Stephanie, get over here and let's see what you can do with those six-feet-long legs." I was twenty-four at the time. His remarks, said with a twinkle of mischief, were right to my face, not hidden or just with the guys. It was a different era, so I took them in stride-- on my six-feet-long legs. (In fact, when I agreed to produce the 58th Presidential Inauguration for our forty-fifth president, I called Ron to see if he'd help me find some special acts. He made himself available the very next day.) Ron is a bit crass, but he is all heart. (pgs 2 and 3)
What is the point of this story? Seriously? Other than yet another name drop?
Other pains in the neck were revealed by actor and model Emily Ratajkowski, who tweeted that day: "Sat next to a journalist from the NYT last night who told me 'Melania is a hooker.' Whatever your politics it's crucial to call this out for what it is: slut shaming. I don't care about her nudes or sexual history and no one should. Gender specific attacks are barbaric sexist bullshit."
This random encounter took place at a New York Fashion Week event. I made some calls and found out that the New York Times reporter who'd slut-shamed Melania to Ratajkowski was none other than Jacob Bernstein.
One month earlier, Bernstein had written a profile of me, and I had felt the sting of his gender-specific attacks. He took pains to describe my wardrobe and put a price tag on my handbag, questioned my resume, all but said I took more credit than I deserved for my work on the Met Gala, and suggested that I buried my Catskills past so I could pretend I'd always been a Scarsdale "granddaughter" of Harry Winston. Bernstein could have researched his newspapers' own archives if he wanted to know the truth about my work and background, but he obviously had his hot take on me before we'd met, and he bent the facts to fit it. I had to wonder how much of it was Trump hate.
[...]
The Times slapped Bernstein on the wrist, issuing a statement rebuking his loose lips. He wasn't even a political reporter, but he'd had a part in writing two flattering profiles on Princess [Ivanka Trump], one that asked "Will Ivanka Trump Be the Most Powerful First Daughter in History?"
Under fire, Bernstein tweeted, "I want to take ownership of a mistake I made. Speaking at a party in what I thought was a personal conversation, I nevertheless made a stupid remark about the first lady. My editors have made it clear my behavior was not in keeping with the standards of the Times, and I agree. My mistake, referring to the unfounded rumors, shouldn't reflect on anyone else and I apologize profusely."
Glad he was sorry. Maybe he'd think twice next time before he degraded a woman. (pg 204 and 205)
I should keep a running tally of how many times I rolled my eyes so hard I hurt myself. Here is the author's most obvious use of "feminism-when-convenient". Not all criticism of women is gender-based, and while eagerly speculating on Melania's sex worker past aside from the nude photos (let alone calling her a hooker) is gross and missing the point of what's wrong with Melania Trump, none of the comments alleged by the author about the author herself ("took pains to describe my wardrobe and put a price tag on my handbag, questioned my resume, all but said I took more credit than I deserved for my work on the Met Gala, and suggested that I buried my Catskills past so I could pretend I'd always been a Scarsdale "granddaughter" of Harry Winston") are gender-specific. The author is clear to maneuver this slight on Melania as a slight on herself (because of course she is) and a slight on all women (so we'll care). The author even gives away the game when whinging about "Trump hate" motivating the reporter's "sexism" when she describes his flattering profiles of another Trump (not to mention another woman), Ivanka.
When I sat in the press conference, I received an email from [operations director]Tim [Tripepi] about a huge point of contention between the East Wing and the West Wing: Melania's plane. She wanted a bigger, nicer one. They wanted her to have a smaller one with no Wi-Fi for her flights between New York, DC, and Palm Beach. Tim wrote, "I would seriously tell MT to tell DJT to tell Joe Hagin that she needs the C--40B to be her dedicated plane.
Tim told me to tell Melania to tell Donald... What good did his nagging me to nag her do? Mansplaining alert. (pg 208)
I agree it sounds like mansplaining, but after the author's other brushes with "feminism", I'd prefer she didn't call it that.
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David and I, the Kushners, and the president rose from our seats to head over to the dessert buffet. (Melania loves a good crème brûlée.) Donald had his eye on a big piece of chocolate cake, so I handed him an empty plate, my fingers on the bottom and my thumb on the top edge, a perfectly natural and normal way to hand someone a plate. He stared at my thumb as if it were on fire. I thought, "Oh, shit, move your thumb!" He beamed at me as he took the plate, and then, when he thought I wasn’t looking, he put it down and got another.
I’d seen his germaphobia in action over the years, how he always kept his hands in his pockets or close to his sides, a bottle of sanitizer at the ready. When he posed in photos, he gave the thumbs-up so he didn’t have to touch the icky hands of admirers. He was even afraid of my germs. This man wouldn’t eat off a plate that had been touched by a friend. (pg 213)
Assuming Trump actually does have germophobia, germophobia isn't going to be affected simply because the person is a friend because that's not how germaphobia works, no matter what the author might think.
If the best doctors in the world couldn’t figure out what to do for me, I might
be in physical agony forever, and I didn’t think I would be able to stand it. What made it even worse was that my doctors kept telling me they didn’t see anything on my scans. One of them mentioned relocating me to the psych ward.
“The what ward?” my mom asked. My mother-in-law, Michele, put her hand over her mouth. They thought I’d lost my marbles. (pg 235)
Uh, actually referring to mental health as "losing your marbles" in the 2020s.
My doctors saved my life in more ways than one. Dr. Sun and Dr. Hartl
made sure I didn’t end up in a straitjacket for the rest of my life. (pg 236)
That's another yikes.
I paid my (and Trump’s) lawyers tens of thousands of dollars for the privilege of working my ass off for free without acknowledgment, under intense scrutiny, with no job security. It was a legal muzzle that only made the job of launching the initiative harder. Unless Melania gave me written permission, I
couldn’t speak for the Office of the First Lady. Melania wrote an email that permitted me to speak with and meet experts about her initiative, which she did the very next day after I signed my gratuitous service agreement.
It was absurd. And yet I’d fought to make this happen. I was thrilled it was finally done. I definitely have a few screws loose. (pg 255)
Sigh.
While we were talking about mental health issues and kids, I asked her, “Do you think Donald has attention deficit hyperactivity disorder?”
Children with ADHD have symptoms that include difficulty forming and maintaining friendships, a limited ability to develop social skills by observing others, failure to notice social cues, impulsive behavior, and a tendency to
engage in disruptive behavior.
What I should have really asked her was, “Do you think Donald has borderline personality disorder?” Symptoms include having no empathy or flexibility and rigidly clinging to problematic beliefs and behaviors that are way
outside societal norms.
She laughed at my question and said, “ADHD, what? Are you kidding me?”
I was dead serious! I know what ADHD looks and feels like. I’d been diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and expressive language disorder. At times, I find myself at a loss for words, which, if you heard me ramble, might seem impossible.
I said, “If Donald actually went on television and said to the world, ‘I’ve got it!’ it would be huge! Imagine the impact it would have in our society.” I wasn’t only referring to raising awareness for ADHD. His owning up to a disorder would explain his impulsiveness and inability to stop tweeting and saying stupid things.
Then she really laughed. “Boys will be boys,” she said. “They’re all like
that.”
I laughed along, but I knew not all “boys” behaved like Donald. (pg 257 and 258)
Trying to assign a self-absorbed, lazy bigot a common behavioral disorder suffered by millions or a mental illness also suffered by millions to excuse or explain his horrible behavior is a truly awful look. It's even worse when it's coming from someone who claims to have ADHD the way the author does.
I sat in front of my computer screen most of the day, with fast-striking PTSD. (pg 298)
That's, uh, not remotely how PTSD works.
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Just when you think The Kennedys haven't suffered enough, here comes some weird references to them!
Melania, on the escalator [at her husband's announcement for his bid for the Presidency back in 2015), literally and figuratively, was just along for the ride. She had been asked what kind of First lady she'd be back in 1998, when she was just the girlfriend, and replied that she'd be traditional, like Jacqueline Kennedy. An attractive, supportive wife. (pg 47)
Jacqueline Kennedy was considerably more than an attractive, supportive wife. She influenced how the office of First Lady and the White House would be seen from decades to come, and wasn't afraid to make political stances of her own, like support for integration and integrated schools by integrating her own daughter's class, voicing her support for her memorial for Mary McLeod Bethune, among other efforts. She talked about wanting a private life but understanding that in her position, that wasn't possible, so she made the best of it, something Melania Trump clearly will never understand.
Is this a tangent? Yes! Is Jackie Kennedy so much more than a Halloween costume of style inspiration and she should be treated as such? Also yes!
Also, the interview was 1999, and Melania actually said "I would be very traditional. Like Betty Ford or Jackie Kennedy."
(She also completely lacks the tenacity and vision of Betty Ford as well.)
The inspiration for the event was Camelot; Melania had told me she was a great admirer of Jacqueline Kennedy. (On a June 21, 2019, phone interview with Fox & Friends, President Trump likened that former iconic First Lady to his wife, saying "We have our own Jackie O today, it's called Melania. Melania. We'll call it Melania T. Okay?")
Yes, he called his wife "it."
Kennedy worship might be one of the few things Melania and Ivanka have in common. Ivanka and Jared are big Camelot fans, too. It's no coincidence that all three of their children-- Arabella, Joseph, and Theodore-- share names with Kennedy family members. Edward "Ted" Kennedy and Joseph Kennedy you know; Arabella Kennedy was JFK and Jackie's stillborn daughter.(pg 148)
Gross!
Also creepy!
Also, it's worth noting that Jackie Kennedy was known as "Jackie Kennedy" in the White House. She wasn't "Jackie O" until after she remarried after her husband was assassinated while in office. It's, uh, kind of strange, to put it mildly, for a President to call his wife the name of a First Lady that only existed after her husband the President died.
Jackie Kennedy would probably be disgusted given her opposition to Trump's acquisition of the flagship Bonwit Teller store that later became Trump Tower.
[White House correspondent] Kate Bennett posted a few pictures of Jacqueline Kennedy in white pants and a navy top on Twitter. While flying to Palm Beach with the [then-Japanese Prime Minister and his wife], Melania wore a Michael Kors navy top and white slacks. Was Bennett implying that Melania paled in comparison to Jackie Kennedy? (pg 200)
That's quite the reach. It's clear it was meant to be comparing the style of the two First Ladies. Anyone who sees the two of them can clearly see Melania Trump pales in every and all comparisons to Jacqueline Kennedy.
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Just because he accidentally did the right thing on January 6th, 2021, don't think "President Pence" should ever be a phrase you want to hear.
After a (delicious) dinner, the president and First Lady left the State Dining
Room first, followed by the vice president and Mrs. Pence. The four of them— and me— waited in the Red Room for the guests to assemble in the East Room for the entertainment. The four of them took a seat and got to talking. I decided to stand right next to Melania. Mike Pence brought up Trump’s Justice Department and Department of Education’s rescinding of Obama’s federal protections for transgender students that allowed kids to use whichever bathroom they wanted to.
Jackie Evancho, the America’s Got Talent singer who performed at the inauguration when no one else would, has a transgender sister. On February 22, four days earlier, she’d tweeted, “ @realdonaldtrump u gave me the honor 2 sing at your inauguration. Pls give me & my sis the honor 2 meet with u 2 talk #transgender rights” Trump didn’t acknowledge the tweet or reply to Evancho. I don’t think Vice President Pence did either.
The Supreme Court would soon be hearing a case about the same issue. Melania was confused about why Donald felt compelled to put himself front and center on the bathroom issue. He could have done nothing and avoided upsetting
the LGBTQ+ community. Once the Pences were gone and it was just the three of us, Melania asked Donald, “Why did you get involved?”
I asked, “In what, that bathroom thing?”
He said, “You’re right.” Then he clasped his hands and looked into her eyes and said, “I didn’t need to get involved. I could have let the Supreme Court deal with it. But it was very important to Mike.”
Mike Pence really, really cares about where people go to the bathroom. (pgs 219 and 220)
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Hey, there, speaking of Mike Pence, are you interested in some wildly outdated gender stereotypes?
Even though I was the youngest and the only girl, I was never treated like a precious little princess-- I was just one of the boys. No pigtails or Barbie for me-- I liked Tonto and Bruce Lee. My brothers and I bickered, threw punches, and broke a few toes kicking each other and a nose or two wrestling around. Teasing me was their idea of fun. (pg 46)
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In case you think Melania is the only friend being trashed in this book, the third musketeer (according to their photos), friend of the author and Melania Trump, designer Rachel Roy also takes a hit:
A few minutes later, the Trump family arrived at the Hilton and took the stage. I was cheering from below, videotaping their entrance and Donald's acceptance speech, while commenting on a group text with Rachel Roy and Melania.
Rachel, who was watching on CNN, texted, "DT is amazing! MT is so beautiful! Speech very Donald who we all know and love."
I scoffed at her flattery. (Rachel was a lifelong Democrat.)
"Our work is just beginning. Let's be the change we want to see in the world. Let's work for women and children." Rachel again. She'd been involved in children's causes at the United Nations and worked closely with Deepak Chopra on them. I couldn't have agreed more. Melania, with our help, could shine a light on the needs of child refugees and so much more. Unlike Rachel, though, I knew that as soon as a friend asked Melania to get involved in a business-type partnership, she would bristle. It was too close for comfort, not her style to mix the two. I'd never done it. And now Rachel was promoting her agenda and advocating for a role before Melania had even left the Hilton stage.
I wrote, "Here we go, girls. We're going to laugh a lot." What I thought of as a sign-off.
Rachel kept going: "This shit is crazy. You have always been this role. You have lived it. You got this! Saying a prayer for Donald's safety!"
Melania had always been the role of First Lady? Really? Twenty years ago, she had been a barely-getting-by model in Paris. Thirty years ago, she'd lived in Communist Slovenia. Rachel was a bit overexcited.
I tried to get to the heart of the matter. "We love you. Strong support."
Melania finally texted back at four a.m., "Love you both."
The next day, Rachel asked to meet Melania and her mom for a celebration lunch in NYC or DC. Melania's answer: "I need to see my schedule," to which Rachel replied, "Yes, Madame President. No pressure ❤️."
I'm not sure if it ever happened. Melania does so hate to be asked for anything. (pg 64)
A double sniff on them both, and look how the author supposedly had Melania's number before going to work with her (?!).
Kind of curious what Rachel Roy would say about this book.
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The same day Donald was vouching for Michael Cohen’s loyalty, Melania was at Barbara Bush’s funeral. She famously smiled at Barack Obama, showing beautiful teeth, instead of giving him the pursed-lipped grin she used around her husband. Donald didn’t go, since he knew his presence would not be welcomed
by the Never-Trumper Bush family. Instead, Melania was accompanied by former White House head maître d’ George Haney and Buddy Carter, the butler I’d met my first week in the White House, who gave me the biggest hug when he
was retiring. He was one of the only gentlemen I’d met in Washington. (pg 317)
One of the clearest examples to me of the author clearly not knowing what she's talking about (which thus casts suspicion on other parts of the book) is this passage here.
Donald Trump didn't go not because his presence would not be welcomed, but because it's not tradition (and an added security risk) that a sitting President attends the funeral of a First Lady. The tradition is that the sitting First Lady attends on his behalf. That's why (for example) then-President Obama didn't attend former First Lady Nancy Reagan's funeral in 2016, instead then-sitting First Lady Michelle Obama attended. Exceptions exist, of course (in 1994, then-President Bill Clinton attended a burial service for Jacqueline Kennedy, an early supporter of his campaign and also, it's Jacqueline Kennedy), but they are exceptions, not the norm.
Taking a snipe at the Bush family as "Never-Trumpers" is kind of weird, since although they did not support Donald Trump publicly and Barbara Bush criticized several of his more violently sexist remarks during the campaign, they welcomed the then sitting-President to the funeral of Barbara Bush's husband, former President George HW Bush literally the same year, within a few months. The author's complete ignorance to basic protocol even a "civilian" like myself knows suggests she doesn't have the inside scoops she's claiming.
Also, nice to hear that Buddy Carter is a gentlemen when earlier in the book the author jokingly accused him (and the other White House wait staff) of poisoning the First Lady's food after their reticence to work with the wife of racist, who's pretty racist in her own right.
Final Grade: F
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