Melania Trump and the Aesthetics of War

Many things are coming into focus fast in this new era: the extent of the damage that has been done these past four years, the height of the task before the new administration, the determination with which Trump, Vance, and so many others are approaching that challenge. I am still processing wonders beyond imagining now in play in this country. But the clearest image of renewal, a gorgeous harbinger of needed change, is a literal one: Melania Trump, with just a handful of impeccable looks, has given America an extreme makeover. 

Melania — with her trademark Louboutins, her snatched waists, and her impeccable clothing — is all the way back, and in all her splendor. But this time it feels like we may all be inspired to step it up a little. Her inauguration look, that to-die-for navy silk suit with the most iconic hat in politics since Lincoln’s stovepipe, broke TikTok with tributes. She could not have sent a clearer signal if she’d worn a chain mail suit: she is prepared to use fashion as a weapon, and as only she can wield it.

As the Zoomers say, Melania ate with that outfit. She came to slay. Looking great really is the best revenge, but this wisdom — once passed down from mothers to daughters — has become forgotten female knowledge.

Melania has perfected the art of feminine grace and propriety, and it’s contagious.

You can already see it trickling down to Usha Vance, who, while always wonderfully dressed, stepped up to sartorial supremacy in her pink custom Oscar de la Renta inauguration ceremony look. Her message was clear: I am not Karen Pence. The last Republican second lady, the angry, long-suffering wife of traitorous Pence, seemed to take special care to present herself in the most stodgy, unstylish manner possible. I don’t think I saw her smile once in four years.

But at the glorious inauguration, even the tiny moppet Mirabel Vance, age 3, was dressed to kill, preschool-style, in a dark-red Little Red Riding Hood wool cloak, complete with matching Bluey Band-Aids on each tiny finger.

The vibes in D.C. in the opening days of the second Trump era were clear: Look your best — because America deserves it. The prospect of a Golden Age demands nothing less of us. At the many glittering balls and parties, it seemed everyone had gotten that message. Glamour, feminine beauty, and debonair men’s style reigned supreme. The style was not boring D.C. staid, either. The new look is polished sex appeal wrapped up in classic elegance.

Witness First Granddaughter Kai Trump, who understood the assignment and capped her meteoric rise to fame and social media triumph in a stunning sparkling gown with a daring slit. She set her video to “Young and Beautiful,” Lana Del Rey’s lush anthem from 2013’s The Great Gatsby.

And let’s not forget Ivanka Trump. The statuesque blonde stunned in a hunter green ensemble and matching fascinator, only topped later by her several ballgowns. 

Unabashed American female pulchritude is back on the menu, boys. Being a girl is so back. And, crucially: it’s okay to be hot again. It’s okay to aspire to look “good.” It’s okay to care, and to remind people what looking good even means. It does not mean normalized obesity, blue hair, shaved heads, and septum rings. It means the timeless, classic American style on display in Washington last month: tasteful cleavage, fur coats, glitter, killer tuxedos, neatly groomed men, and women who have gone the extra mile to raise their own expectations for themselves.

These things matter. The people who celebrate ugliness at the expense of classic Americana understand perfectly well that style and substance go hand in hand. The assault on our senses is also an assault on our way of life. Those who love America should take note: Rebuilding our country will require us to restore its beauty, just as destroying it entailed its slobification.

On inauguration day, everyone tried. Most succeeded. The reaction to Lauren Sanchez’s outfit was one of the few exceptions. The concubine of Amazon founder Jeff Bezos ruined her lovely white suit by wearing a visible lace push-up bra during a solemn daytime ceremony. Ms. Sanchez is not known for her modesty, but there was no reason to show off her two prize possessions like that. She was roundly condemned for her misstep, and this was good! Public immodesty is a modern plague on American life. I’ve been begging women to put on some clothes for years. 

Don’t get me wrong: The human form should be celebrated. But that means it must be restored to its proper place of honor and respect and not made a mockery in public. Beauty, for lack of a better word, is good. We are witnessing now what I think may be a lasting rebirth of propriety, of feminine grace, and fashionable elegance. But we need everyone to do their part. This is one small way we each contribute to improving the look of our towns and cities. Our country deserves it.