Ah, the excitement of living in Alaska.
I was asleep and woke up to the bed shaking violently. My first thought was my 15 month-old in the next room, then thinking it was probably a good thing that we never got around to hanging the framed Brambly Hedge canvas above her crib.
I went to get up and saw my husband with our daughter in the doorway. We went through our morning routine amid aftershocks, getting E her bottle of milk and sitting in her room. E was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed despite waking up about two hours early. My first call was to my parents, who live two blocks away. At their house, a couple glass angels broke, a wineglass, and a Galileo's thermometer. My parents are geologists, so I knew they were fine. In fact as soon as my father heard the epicenter was north, he correctly guessed that the quake occurred on the Castle Mountain fault. In case you ever wondered, "What do geologists do during earthquakes?" the answer is count the seconds, and try to distinguish between s-waves and p-waves. Then refresh the USGS earthquake site (which they already have bookmarked just for fun) as the aftershocks happen. There was one aftershock whose epicenter was 0.0 km away from us. 😶
Andy and I were texting out of state family and friends, and checking on family and friends in town. We assured everyone that we were fine, that E wasn't really bothered by any of it. She was laying down during an aftershock, and her eyes got a bit wide. Otherwise, she barely paused playing.
We got a tsunami warning, which we ignored. We do live close to the coast, but we live on the north part of Turnagain Arm. Any tsunami would be slowed by going around that curve, so our tsunami danger is minimal. A wave similar to the one in Lituya Bay in 1958 would be dangerous for us, but not likely.
Andy showed me a picture of the northbound on-ramp at Minnesota, and my first reaction was to scoff at the fake picture. That kind of damage happened during the 1964 quake, we grew up seeing pictures like that, but it hadn't happened in Anchorage since then. And yet, it was real. Driving home through the airport last night I saw a sidewalk that had cracked and buckled. It's real.
It has slowly occurred to me how historic and significant this earthquake was. We have been so lucky. My house is standing, undamaged. We never lost power, and experienced no gas or water leaks. The only two items that broke were a ceramic gnome and a plastic finger brush. This wasn't the largest magnitude earthquake I've experienced. I remember the 2002 Denali quake, which was 7.9 m.
Earthquakes of this magnitude kill people and destroy buildings in other cities. The 1994 Northridge (California) earthquake had a 6.7 m, and 57 people died. Hundreds, even thousands are killed in earthquakes in other countries. It's humbling, and sad.
Now, to get political, strong building codes put in place after the 1964 earthquake helped prevent worse damage. Realistically not trusting contractors to build future buildings to be earthquake safe since that takes more time and money, the city of Anchorage apparently has an extensive permit review process. Buildings are required to be built to withstand shaking. Sometimes big government does save lives. With things like homes, medicine, and food, trusting vendors is naive and dangerous.
Tuesday, December 4, 2018
Wednesday, August 8, 2018
10 Songs: Jazz
Billie Holiday helped me through my teenage years. When I listened to Lady Day sing, it was an expression of all the sadness I was feeling. She introduced me to jazz.
I didn't really start exploring jazz and blues until I was in my third year of college, when and friend and I volunteered to host a radio show on our local NPR station. Well, the friend was too busy to host with me, so I was slightly adrift. Luckily the station had an excellent jazz library to explore. I figured out what I like (soulful vocals, nimble instrumentals) and don't like (experimental and jam band nonsense).
These are the versions of these songs that I like.
1. "Glad to Be Unhappy" by Billie Holiday
There are so many Billie Holiday songs that I love. I love her voice, the tremors, the tone, everything. Just listening to her sing can make me cry like (almost) no other. This song is from her last studio album, Lady in Satin, released in 1958. I read a review once that described it as over-orchestrated, and I can see the point, but I disagree. The star here is that voice, no longer anywhere near its prime but beautiful. In the bonus tracks, you can hear her slurring, pretty clearly not sober. I love the album anyway, maybe because of the imperfections. It's real and harsh and sad, just as I felt life was like when I first listened. "Glad to Be Unhappy" is how I feel when I'm depressed. I'm overall happy, life is good. But there are days when I feel like nothing is going right and nothing ever will. That's when I pull out this song and this album.
2. "Feeling Good" by Nina Simone
First time I heard this song was in a TV spot for "Six Feet Under"-the main characters lip synced the opening lines, and I was hooked. It's so sly and honest the way Nina sings it, and she sings the hell out of it. She's the other singer who can make me cry with her voice (her version of "Ne Me Quitte Pas" gets me every time). This song is rejoicing, but it's not cheerful and I love it.
3. "Take Five" by the Dave Brubeck Quartet
Obviously. This song knocks you a bit off-kilter with Dave Brubeck's quintuple timing, then makes you swing with the Paul Desmond's sax. By the time you get to Joe Morello's drum solo, you're in the music and you don't want to leave. It's different for the sake of being different, for the sake of trying something new and seeing if it works. It really does. It's the epitome of cool jazz. Today we'd probably call it hipster jazz. Ugh.
4. "Mack the Knife" by Ella Fitzgerald (Live in Berlin)
What a performer! Spoiler: she forgets the words about halfway through and starts to make them up without missing a single beat. In case you've ever wondered why Ella Fitz was great, listen to this song. She's not my favorite; I find her voice too sunny. There's no denying her incredible talent, and I adore this song.
5. "St. James Infirmary" by Hugh Laurie
This is one of my all time favorite songs. I'm having trouble finding the right words to describe it. You might just have to listen for yourself. All I know is that it makes me ridiculously happy. And yes, Hugh Laurie the actor. He's a good actor and a great musician.
6. "Trumbology" by Bix Beiderbecke and Frankie Trumbauer
True story: when I first started the radio show, I was exploring the station's jazz library and asked my Dad for suggestions. He mentioned "Big Spiderbeck." I don't remember how long it took me to realize he said Bix Beiderbecke. Longer than I'm proud of, to be sure.
7. "Fables of Faubus" by Charles Mingus
Another sly song, it was written with lyrics. I've never heard with those lyrics because the label refused to release the original version. It was recorded and released a year later under a different label. Charles Mingus, one of the greatest musicians ever, wrote it about Governor Orval Faubus, the man who sent the National Guard to prevent the desegregation of Little Rock schools in 1957. The lyrics are scathing and unfortunately relevant.
I love this song for the music, for the sly, relentless rhythm that lulls you, not to sleep, but to action.
8. "Sugar Rum Cherry" by Duke Ellington
This is a jazz version of the Sugar Plum Fairy from the Nutcracker Suite by Tchaikovsky. Listening to it makes one want to smile knowingly. It does not hurry, it meanders its way through the tune. This whole album is great, and I love the concept.
9. "Fever" by Peggy Lee
I love Peggy Lee, and this song is the first that I felt comfortable singing in front of people. Peggy had a lower voice than most singers, and that made it easier for me to learn. It's a classic for a reason, and it's fun.
10. "Stardust" by Ben Webster
Before we knew my daughter's gender, we called her Panda Stardust; at the first ultrasound, my husband compared her to a baby panda, and I was always going to call her Stardust. All of us are made of stardust, with magic and love and music. This song feels like a lullaby to me, a lovely, comforting drift in safe arms.
I didn't really start exploring jazz and blues until I was in my third year of college, when and friend and I volunteered to host a radio show on our local NPR station. Well, the friend was too busy to host with me, so I was slightly adrift. Luckily the station had an excellent jazz library to explore. I figured out what I like (soulful vocals, nimble instrumentals) and don't like (experimental and jam band nonsense).
These are the versions of these songs that I like.
1. "Glad to Be Unhappy" by Billie Holiday
There are so many Billie Holiday songs that I love. I love her voice, the tremors, the tone, everything. Just listening to her sing can make me cry like (almost) no other. This song is from her last studio album, Lady in Satin, released in 1958. I read a review once that described it as over-orchestrated, and I can see the point, but I disagree. The star here is that voice, no longer anywhere near its prime but beautiful. In the bonus tracks, you can hear her slurring, pretty clearly not sober. I love the album anyway, maybe because of the imperfections. It's real and harsh and sad, just as I felt life was like when I first listened. "Glad to Be Unhappy" is how I feel when I'm depressed. I'm overall happy, life is good. But there are days when I feel like nothing is going right and nothing ever will. That's when I pull out this song and this album.
2. "Feeling Good" by Nina Simone
First time I heard this song was in a TV spot for "Six Feet Under"-the main characters lip synced the opening lines, and I was hooked. It's so sly and honest the way Nina sings it, and she sings the hell out of it. She's the other singer who can make me cry with her voice (her version of "Ne Me Quitte Pas" gets me every time). This song is rejoicing, but it's not cheerful and I love it.
3. "Take Five" by the Dave Brubeck Quartet
Obviously. This song knocks you a bit off-kilter with Dave Brubeck's quintuple timing, then makes you swing with the Paul Desmond's sax. By the time you get to Joe Morello's drum solo, you're in the music and you don't want to leave. It's different for the sake of being different, for the sake of trying something new and seeing if it works. It really does. It's the epitome of cool jazz. Today we'd probably call it hipster jazz. Ugh.
4. "Mack the Knife" by Ella Fitzgerald (Live in Berlin)
What a performer! Spoiler: she forgets the words about halfway through and starts to make them up without missing a single beat. In case you've ever wondered why Ella Fitz was great, listen to this song. She's not my favorite; I find her voice too sunny. There's no denying her incredible talent, and I adore this song.
5. "St. James Infirmary" by Hugh Laurie
This is one of my all time favorite songs. I'm having trouble finding the right words to describe it. You might just have to listen for yourself. All I know is that it makes me ridiculously happy. And yes, Hugh Laurie the actor. He's a good actor and a great musician.
6. "Trumbology" by Bix Beiderbecke and Frankie Trumbauer
True story: when I first started the radio show, I was exploring the station's jazz library and asked my Dad for suggestions. He mentioned "Big Spiderbeck." I don't remember how long it took me to realize he said Bix Beiderbecke. Longer than I'm proud of, to be sure.
7. "Fables of Faubus" by Charles Mingus
Another sly song, it was written with lyrics. I've never heard with those lyrics because the label refused to release the original version. It was recorded and released a year later under a different label. Charles Mingus, one of the greatest musicians ever, wrote it about Governor Orval Faubus, the man who sent the National Guard to prevent the desegregation of Little Rock schools in 1957. The lyrics are scathing and unfortunately relevant.
I love this song for the music, for the sly, relentless rhythm that lulls you, not to sleep, but to action.
8. "Sugar Rum Cherry" by Duke Ellington
This is a jazz version of the Sugar Plum Fairy from the Nutcracker Suite by Tchaikovsky. Listening to it makes one want to smile knowingly. It does not hurry, it meanders its way through the tune. This whole album is great, and I love the concept.
9. "Fever" by Peggy Lee
I love Peggy Lee, and this song is the first that I felt comfortable singing in front of people. Peggy had a lower voice than most singers, and that made it easier for me to learn. It's a classic for a reason, and it's fun.
10. "Stardust" by Ben Webster
Before we knew my daughter's gender, we called her Panda Stardust; at the first ultrasound, my husband compared her to a baby panda, and I was always going to call her Stardust. All of us are made of stardust, with magic and love and music. This song feels like a lullaby to me, a lovely, comforting drift in safe arms.
Monday, July 30, 2018
10 Things: Books
Books. Just the word makes me sigh happily. I love reading. I love holding a book and turning the pages, or pressing the button on an e-reader. Yeah, I'm equal opportunity. More books = happy me. More books taking up less space = happy husbeast.
My parents are readers. My grandmother always had a book nearby. When she was in the nursing home the last few years, she had two things with her at most times: a tissue, and a book.
It may surprise some people to learn that I don't enjoy reading fiction very much. I've tried to read Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen at least three times, and I can never make it far. I don't remember how many pages into it I've gotten. I've tried to read Harry Potter twice, and made it about 100 pages. I've read The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson, White Oleander by Janet Fitch, Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden. Meh. I'm not a completely lost cause: I adore The Hobbit by J. R. R Tolkein. But I'm drawn to non-fiction, to true stories that happened in our distant past, or last year.
This list will be different than my Facebook list, mostly to share more of the variety of stuff that I read. I recommend all of these books and will happily recommend more. In no particular order:
Radium Girls: The Dark Story of America's Shining Women by Kate Moore
Ever wondered why we have OSHA? The FDA? I never have wondered, really, but if you have read this. Young women, quite a few of whom were immigrants or first generation Americans, trusted that their supervisors wouldn't knowingly expose their workers to deadly materials for the sake of profits. Their bones literally crumbled into pieces after radium exposure. The companies seized on any explanation for their deaths other than the truth, and because radium was considered safe, even healthy to ingest it took years to prove that the women died from exposure. This is not an easy read, but in these days of "fewer regulations" and "big government is bad" we need to remember how we got here and why these federal agencies exist. See also: Triangle by David Von Drehle
Every book by by Mary Roach
Do you have any questions that seem dumb rattling around in your brain? Are you afraid to ask them for fear of seeming stupid or rude? Mary Roach has the answers. This woman has no fear, and her sense of shame has limits. She asks those questions, sometimes reluctantly because she knows it seems weird to ask why dead male bodies get erections, or what happens to poop in space. What's it like to participate in a sex study? How do I find out if I have ESP? She has the answers.
I haven't read her latest yet, but I have no doubt it will be entertaining and informative.
Game of Queens: The Women Who Made Sixteenth Century Europe by Sarah Gristwood
European men of the 1500s get a lot of attention. To be fair, the century includes some incredible personalities: Henry VIII of England, obviously, Francois I and Henri II of France, Emperor Charles V. They are the great men of the century, ruling their realms for better or for worse. Their mothers, sisters, aunts, wives, and daughters were equally great, and sometimes more important than the men supposedly in charge. This book is not rewriting history; it is revealing a more accurate story of how women helped govern in Europe. See also: Queens Consort by Lisa Hilton, She-Wolves by Helen Castor, Four Queens by Nancy Goldstone, Blood Sisters by Sarah Gristwood
Victoria's Daughters by Jerrold Packard
For some reason, Queen Victoria's family dynamics fascinate me. She had five daughters and four sons and never let them forget that she was their mother, yes, but more importantly she was their queen. And politics wasn't a question of policy and compromise: for Victoria it was family, a matter of writing to Uncle Leopold in Brussels, or her grandson in Berlin. The personalities involved and the different reactions are endlessly interesting to me. See also: Edward VII by Jane Ridley, Victoria's Matchmaking by Deborah Cadbury, We Two by Gillian Gill
Giants in the Earth by O. E. Rolvaag
A novel! Finally! My mother jokes that this is required reading for every Scandinavian American, which should be true, but it's more than that. This book is about the American dream of owning and working your own land. For many families, the cost of that dream is too high. It's heartbreaking, but also inspiring. Reading this book gives me a little insight into what my great-great grandfather Jakob might have been thinking when he left Norway to tend a farm in Iowa. It's hard to imagine two more different places, Norway and Iowa (or North Dakota). I can't imagine moving from Alaska to Iowa, but if Jakob had lacked the imagination, I might not be here. We owe debts to our ancestors that we can't possibly comprehend.
1066: Year of the Conquest by David Howarth
Back to history. This is the book that started it, that introduced me to Medieval history and the vagaries of source material. I've read it countless times, taking it on every plane trip for 20 years. It is an excellent introduction to the Norman Conquest of England, and how to read about history. See also: The Norman Conquest by Marc Morris
The Plantagenets by Dan Jones
Really any of Dan Jones' books. They're good reads with good information. He takes complicated stories and lays them out, step by step, without being dull. Because I get it: history can be very dull. Why should we care about a king's wardrobe accounts from May through September 1168? Dan will tell you and make you want to know more.
The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia Wrede
I love this series about Princess Cimorene. Every book is a delight and introduces more amazing characters: Kazul, Morwen, Mendanbar, the Gargoyle! I am so excited to read these to my daughter. This princess is smart, beautiful, clever, and kind. These books teach you that it pays to be nice, life is rarely straightforward, and knowing how to cook is very important. So is an organized library.
Rabid: A Cultural History of the World's Most Diabolical Virus by Bill Wasik
I am fascinated by medical history, specifically epidemics and human reactions to disease. Illness brings out the very best and the very worst in humans, and inspires fear, poetry, art, and science. Another book that's not easy to read (I've only read the last chapter once), but rabies has been with humans for millennia. The more we know, right?
Norman the Doorman by Don Freeman
I'm ending this list with one of my very favorite books from my childhood. Norman is a mouse who lives and works at the museum. He lives for art, and finally gets the chance to share his own.
My parents are readers. My grandmother always had a book nearby. When she was in the nursing home the last few years, she had two things with her at most times: a tissue, and a book.
It may surprise some people to learn that I don't enjoy reading fiction very much. I've tried to read Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen at least three times, and I can never make it far. I don't remember how many pages into it I've gotten. I've tried to read Harry Potter twice, and made it about 100 pages. I've read The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson, White Oleander by Janet Fitch, Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden. Meh. I'm not a completely lost cause: I adore The Hobbit by J. R. R Tolkein. But I'm drawn to non-fiction, to true stories that happened in our distant past, or last year.
This list will be different than my Facebook list, mostly to share more of the variety of stuff that I read. I recommend all of these books and will happily recommend more. In no particular order:
Radium Girls: The Dark Story of America's Shining Women by Kate Moore
Ever wondered why we have OSHA? The FDA? I never have wondered, really, but if you have read this. Young women, quite a few of whom were immigrants or first generation Americans, trusted that their supervisors wouldn't knowingly expose their workers to deadly materials for the sake of profits. Their bones literally crumbled into pieces after radium exposure. The companies seized on any explanation for their deaths other than the truth, and because radium was considered safe, even healthy to ingest it took years to prove that the women died from exposure. This is not an easy read, but in these days of "fewer regulations" and "big government is bad" we need to remember how we got here and why these federal agencies exist. See also: Triangle by David Von Drehle
Every book by by Mary Roach
Do you have any questions that seem dumb rattling around in your brain? Are you afraid to ask them for fear of seeming stupid or rude? Mary Roach has the answers. This woman has no fear, and her sense of shame has limits. She asks those questions, sometimes reluctantly because she knows it seems weird to ask why dead male bodies get erections, or what happens to poop in space. What's it like to participate in a sex study? How do I find out if I have ESP? She has the answers.
I haven't read her latest yet, but I have no doubt it will be entertaining and informative.
Game of Queens: The Women Who Made Sixteenth Century Europe by Sarah Gristwood
European men of the 1500s get a lot of attention. To be fair, the century includes some incredible personalities: Henry VIII of England, obviously, Francois I and Henri II of France, Emperor Charles V. They are the great men of the century, ruling their realms for better or for worse. Their mothers, sisters, aunts, wives, and daughters were equally great, and sometimes more important than the men supposedly in charge. This book is not rewriting history; it is revealing a more accurate story of how women helped govern in Europe. See also: Queens Consort by Lisa Hilton, She-Wolves by Helen Castor, Four Queens by Nancy Goldstone, Blood Sisters by Sarah Gristwood
Victoria's Daughters by Jerrold Packard
For some reason, Queen Victoria's family dynamics fascinate me. She had five daughters and four sons and never let them forget that she was their mother, yes, but more importantly she was their queen. And politics wasn't a question of policy and compromise: for Victoria it was family, a matter of writing to Uncle Leopold in Brussels, or her grandson in Berlin. The personalities involved and the different reactions are endlessly interesting to me. See also: Edward VII by Jane Ridley, Victoria's Matchmaking by Deborah Cadbury, We Two by Gillian Gill
Giants in the Earth by O. E. Rolvaag
A novel! Finally! My mother jokes that this is required reading for every Scandinavian American, which should be true, but it's more than that. This book is about the American dream of owning and working your own land. For many families, the cost of that dream is too high. It's heartbreaking, but also inspiring. Reading this book gives me a little insight into what my great-great grandfather Jakob might have been thinking when he left Norway to tend a farm in Iowa. It's hard to imagine two more different places, Norway and Iowa (or North Dakota). I can't imagine moving from Alaska to Iowa, but if Jakob had lacked the imagination, I might not be here. We owe debts to our ancestors that we can't possibly comprehend.
1066: Year of the Conquest by David Howarth
Back to history. This is the book that started it, that introduced me to Medieval history and the vagaries of source material. I've read it countless times, taking it on every plane trip for 20 years. It is an excellent introduction to the Norman Conquest of England, and how to read about history. See also: The Norman Conquest by Marc Morris
The Plantagenets by Dan Jones
Really any of Dan Jones' books. They're good reads with good information. He takes complicated stories and lays them out, step by step, without being dull. Because I get it: history can be very dull. Why should we care about a king's wardrobe accounts from May through September 1168? Dan will tell you and make you want to know more.
The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia Wrede
I love this series about Princess Cimorene. Every book is a delight and introduces more amazing characters: Kazul, Morwen, Mendanbar, the Gargoyle! I am so excited to read these to my daughter. This princess is smart, beautiful, clever, and kind. These books teach you that it pays to be nice, life is rarely straightforward, and knowing how to cook is very important. So is an organized library.
Rabid: A Cultural History of the World's Most Diabolical Virus by Bill Wasik
I am fascinated by medical history, specifically epidemics and human reactions to disease. Illness brings out the very best and the very worst in humans, and inspires fear, poetry, art, and science. Another book that's not easy to read (I've only read the last chapter once), but rabies has been with humans for millennia. The more we know, right?
Norman the Doorman by Don Freeman
I'm ending this list with one of my very favorite books from my childhood. Norman is a mouse who lives and works at the museum. He lives for art, and finally gets the chance to share his own.
10 Things
There's another thing going around Facebook these days, the Book Cover Challenge. I'm going to set a goal for myself: one blog post per week for a year of 10 things that I love, or that inspire me, or that I want to see/read/use. Starting now!
Thursday, June 21, 2018
Famous Female Fashion
Why do you wear what you wear? For me it's because it's comfortable and I think it looks good. Everything I wear is a statement, whether intended or not. Usually that message is I'm comfortable and I think I look good. Sometimes what I wear has a deliberate statement to make, like my #blacklivesmatter shirt. My audience is small, but I am aware of what my clothes say.
If you are in the public eye, what you wear is part of your message simply because you are wearing it. To think or act otherwise is a denial of reality.
First ladies have a long history of fashion influence. When they hosted parties, lucky guests and DC society reporters would write about the first lady's gown and accessories with admiration or dismay. Julia Tyler was too flashy, Abigail Adams and Sarah Polk were too plain, Elizabeth Monroe looked very European (perhaps too much), Anna Harrison looked old. Jane Pierce wore nothing but mourning, boring black, Mary Lincoln was a greedy, gaudy mess. Frances Cleveland was elegant and sublime. Eleanor Roosevelt wore what she wanted and didn't care (obviously), Mamie Eisenhower wore pink.
Jackie Kennedy is deserving of an essay all to herself. When Jackie was First Lady, politics and haute couture combined to present a new image of the President's wife to the country and the world. Jackie was so popular in France wearing her designer gowns (while speaking perfect French, naturellement) President Kennedy joked that he was the man who came with Jackie Kennedy. She ushered American fashion away from Mamie Eisenhower's pink lace and the fussy fifties into Christian Dior, Oleg Cassini, and the sleek sixties.
Jackie Kennedy made the most famous fashion statement in First Lady history when she refused to change out of her pink suit stained with her assassinated husband's blood. "Let them see what they have done to Jack," she told Lady Bird Johnson. For President Kennedy's funeral, his widow wore a black mourning dress and iconic veil, presenting an unforgettable statement of grief, both hers and the nation's.
Nancy Reagan is a flip side to this coin: Jackie wore designer clothes and was stylish. Nancy wore designer clothes and was extravagant. First Ladies must learn to tailor their wardrobe (ha, a pun!) to the country's economy: too bland and they're not inspiring; too flashy and they're insensitive.
Subsequent First Ladies have learned that their wardrobe is expected to be as stylish and innovative as Jackie Kennedy's, as ladylike and uncontroversial as Lady Bird Johnson, as inexpensive as possible (I'm guessing Rosalynn Carter is a role model here), but grand enough to impress our allies and enemies alike with our prosperity. Above all, her clothes must not make a political statement (other than wearing a gown by a Chinese designer to a Chinese State Visit reception, for example).
Melania Trump is a former model. Models are supposed to know how to project an images, to make statements. It is difficult, if not impossible, to believe that the choice of that jacket was accidental or that it was not intended to make a statement. Her stylist(s) should resign and seek another profession, because clearly this one is too complicated. Melania should go through her wardrobe and eliminate any potentially controversial pieces. Ma'am, it won't be difficult; just ask yourself one question: should I wear this? If the piece has words on it (always bad) or is an everyday clothing item that costs more than a month's rent ($1,200 country-wide average), toss it in the pile.
Once you have that donation pile, I know of a bunch of kids who might need some donated clothing to keep warm.
If you are in the public eye, what you wear is part of your message simply because you are wearing it. To think or act otherwise is a denial of reality.
First ladies have a long history of fashion influence. When they hosted parties, lucky guests and DC society reporters would write about the first lady's gown and accessories with admiration or dismay. Julia Tyler was too flashy, Abigail Adams and Sarah Polk were too plain, Elizabeth Monroe looked very European (perhaps too much), Anna Harrison looked old. Jane Pierce wore nothing but mourning, boring black, Mary Lincoln was a greedy, gaudy mess. Frances Cleveland was elegant and sublime. Eleanor Roosevelt wore what she wanted and didn't care (obviously), Mamie Eisenhower wore pink.
Jackie Kennedy is deserving of an essay all to herself. When Jackie was First Lady, politics and haute couture combined to present a new image of the President's wife to the country and the world. Jackie was so popular in France wearing her designer gowns (while speaking perfect French, naturellement) President Kennedy joked that he was the man who came with Jackie Kennedy. She ushered American fashion away from Mamie Eisenhower's pink lace and the fussy fifties into Christian Dior, Oleg Cassini, and the sleek sixties.
Jackie Kennedy made the most famous fashion statement in First Lady history when she refused to change out of her pink suit stained with her assassinated husband's blood. "Let them see what they have done to Jack," she told Lady Bird Johnson. For President Kennedy's funeral, his widow wore a black mourning dress and iconic veil, presenting an unforgettable statement of grief, both hers and the nation's.
Nancy Reagan is a flip side to this coin: Jackie wore designer clothes and was stylish. Nancy wore designer clothes and was extravagant. First Ladies must learn to tailor their wardrobe (ha, a pun!) to the country's economy: too bland and they're not inspiring; too flashy and they're insensitive.
Subsequent First Ladies have learned that their wardrobe is expected to be as stylish and innovative as Jackie Kennedy's, as ladylike and uncontroversial as Lady Bird Johnson, as inexpensive as possible (I'm guessing Rosalynn Carter is a role model here), but grand enough to impress our allies and enemies alike with our prosperity. Above all, her clothes must not make a political statement (other than wearing a gown by a Chinese designer to a Chinese State Visit reception, for example).
Melania Trump is a former model. Models are supposed to know how to project an images, to make statements. It is difficult, if not impossible, to believe that the choice of that jacket was accidental or that it was not intended to make a statement. Her stylist(s) should resign and seek another profession, because clearly this one is too complicated. Melania should go through her wardrobe and eliminate any potentially controversial pieces. Ma'am, it won't be difficult; just ask yourself one question: should I wear this? If the piece has words on it (always bad) or is an everyday clothing item that costs more than a month's rent ($1,200 country-wide average), toss it in the pile.
Once you have that donation pile, I know of a bunch of kids who might need some donated clothing to keep warm.
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