How crazy are liberals? This crazy: a lefty fashion commentator writing in New York Magazine describes her own creepy behavior, and turns it into an indictment of Melania and Donald Trump.
The writer is Cintra Wilson, who worked for the New York Times–who else?–as a “critical shopper.” She describes an episode that occurred in 2011, and that reflects poorly on her:
In the spring of 2011, toward the end of my stint as a New York Times critical shopper, I was assigned to review the then-new Dior flagship in uptown Manhattan. …
One of the young store attendants sneaked me into a special chamber to show me a remarkable piece he had been enraptured by since its arrival. Once the door was closed, he carefully unzipped a garment bag, already packed to deliver to its new owner. He unwrapped a complex tissue cocoon and carefully revealed a strapless black gown made of superb-quality lambskin. It was jaw-dropping. “I’ll let you try it on, but you have to keep it a secret: Melania Trump just bought it this morning!”
Naturally, this was an experience too rare and fascinating to resist.
Of course, Ms. Wilson didn’t write about her sneaking into Melania Trump’s dress when it happened, in 2011. At that point, it would only have made Wilson look bad. Only after Donald Trump became president was there an opportunity to make liberal hay out of an otherwise shameful episode.
Once alone in the room, I stripped down and stepped into Melania Trump’s new party frock — a heady, transgressive thrill in and of itself. The contours of her bustline were still pressed warmly into the lamb leather. Traces of her scent lingered on the silk lining, a naughty-innocent candy sweetness not unlike an alchemical fusion of peach-infused cognac and Mr. Bubble. I zipped the dress very carefully, in deference to its mighty expense and regal weight.
This is what I meant by “creepy.” I surmise that Wilson enjoyed her “transgressive” experience at the time, but now, after the fact, imposes a political dimension:
High fashion has always provided frightfully efficient dye-bombs for clearly distinguishing the haves from the have nots, and it’s a remarkable indicator of future socioeconomic trends. This dress struck me as a harrowing bellwether of a kleptocratic, oligarchic future I had hoped America had narrowly avoided under the Obama administration. …
The Dior dress wasn’t just gleefully hurling feminism out of the picture — I felt like it was throwing everyone back to the plantation.
Huh? This is really dumb. And I would bet my last dollar that Ms. Wilson thought no such thing at the time, but is merely fabricating such a response for the sake of fashionable Trump-bashing, so as to be part of the herd.
Now we reach the climax of stupidity:
My Dior visit coincided with a number of unrelated news events I had read in the past week that had put odd grappling hooks in my subconscious. One: Vladimir Putin’s 27-year-old alleged mistress was scheduled to appear on the cover of Russian Vogue. Moscow, by 2011, was becoming the most expensive city in the world, and Russia was aggressively re-branding itself as a wild new frontier where daredevil big-dog kleptocrats and ruthless oligarchs could reinvent society in their own image and likeness. …
Six years later, that Dior dress is now in the White House. Some theorize that the corporate-state kleptocracy model of Putin’s Russia is, too.
Others theorize that we narrowly escaped a corporate-state kleptocracy when Hillary Clinton bungled the presidential election. In any event, New York Magazine seems to devote itself mostly to Trump-bashing, and in Cintra Wilson’s reminiscence of her brush with fame we have a classic of the genre.