Monday, January 19, 2009 - Posts
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While you in D.C. worry about what the temporary influx of celebrities into your city, the rest of us can only look on with envy. Stuck in Dallas, I might as well be in Siberia as far as the inauguration is concerned. Actually, it's the bizarro inauguration here. While the rest of the world will be getting rid of George W. Bush as of tomorrow, he is coming to Dallas to stay. Permanently. His new home is just a few miles from my apartment, SMU (where the Bush Library will also reside), and the President George Bush Turnpike. Here, there's no escaping the guy. (Can't we vote him off the island?) It was thus heartening this weekend to happen into a Bed, Bath, and Beyond and discover an unexpectedly huge display, right as you walked in, of Obama inaugural memorabilia. For a second, I thought I'd fallen into a worm hole and popped up, along with Hanna and Beyoncé, at Tyson's Corner. One expects to find such displays on the mall in D.C., but at a strip mall in historically right-wing Dallas? The only thing I could liken it to was the nationwide outpouring of kitsch that greeted Lady Di and Charles' wedding. (I was in England that summer and still have a campy Charles and Diana ashtray from that trip.) Indeed, such trinkets may inadvertently turn out to be the first installment of Obama's stimulus package. As Tina Brown noted in The Diana Chronicles: "In the 184 days between the February engagement and the July wedding, $800 million of royal wedding souvenirs overflowed in the red, white and blue windows of British stores." Obama, of course, is a democratically elected royal and hasn't had as much time to work with. But in my current mood of patriotic fervor, it was admittedly all I could do to resist the symbolism of buying—in Dallas, no less—a plate with Obama's image and the words "Change Has Come!"
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Speaking of Obama's hands, I picked up this tidbit from a friend who was getting a manicure at a Northwest Washington nail salon a couple of days ago. As my friend was getting her final coat, her manicurist leaned in and pointed to another manicurist in the salon and said that woman—who does the nails of one of Michelle's assistants—had been driven to Blair House to do Michelle's nails for the inaugural. Michelle was so pleased with the result that the woman got a call shortly afterward: Come back to Blair House and do Obama's nails. The manicurist reported that the president-elect was very nice and that as she was buffing his nails, he looked at them and said, "Not too shiny, please." As we put our nation in his hands, it's reassuring that he knows where to draw the line, metrosexually speaking.
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Welcome to Dayo, who is a contributor to the Root, and the New Republic, and an all around great young journalist. If there is a prize for best "off-color" detail spotted by a reporter, you win it. His hands are white! And holding old-white-man glasses! This leads me to wonder: Who is the original cardboard cutout? William Rehnquist? William Jennings Bryan? Teddy Roosevelt?
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Hanna, I agree with you that the prospect of a celebrified D.C. is deeply distressing. One of the things I've always loved most about Washington is its distinct lack of cool: only place I've ever lived where one can walk the corridors of a large office building—or the aisles of a newsroom—and find not a single woman wearing makeup. Also the only place I've ever lived where dinner parties start at 7 and end at 9, sharp. Such a relief, really, if one is trying to get other things done.
I have a hunch, though, that this won't last. Sooner or later, Obama and his entourage are going to get very, very busy: They, too, will have to wake up early in the morning to get the legislation passed, and there won't be any more late-night parties or mink coats on the Metro. Also, I watched that celebrity concert (on TV, alas) and thought it looked distinctly less than fun: cold, crowded, and something flat and forced about the whole thing. It's nice that Beyoncé sang "America the Beautiful"—when was the last time you can remember the pop-music aristocracy sounding misty-eyed and patriotic?—but I suspect there might have been more dancing in the aisles if she had sung "Naughty Girl." Won't be long before she heads back to L.A. or NYC, I predict, along with the rest of them.
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Hanna, I rather disagree with your minor inferiority complex regarding the District. Yes, our malls leave much to be desired (except for this one). But my own 'hood, U Street, is suddenly hip—the New York Times profiled trendy restaurant Marvin just days before this cool wheatpasted image of an Obama/Lincoln hybrid (on which more later) hit its outer wall. Street cred, indeed!
Among the other madnesses of Washington this weekend: the spectacle of literally thousands of life-sized cardboard cutout Barack Obamas, which grace every venue, from house parties to liquor stores. I appreciate the universal fixation on being photographed with “Barack”—as well as the undesirability of dropping the cash and braving the lines at Madame Tussaud’s for a taste of the three-dimensional thing—but I am taking issue with the ubiquity of what’s in fact a flagrant misrepresentation of our president-elect.
Take a good look at the image making the rounds of the district and, for $32.99, no doubt the nation.
Note that Obama’s hands are not the color of his head. As in, they are white. Note also that the white hands are holding glasses that Barack Obama does not wear. The crowning insult? The glasses bear a striking resemblance to those worn by Obama mentor and Health and Human Services Secretary-designate Tom Daschle. Which are not at all stylish and Obama would never wear even if he did wear glasses.
I will not parse the ironies of Obama’s head being grafted onto the body of a white man. Not on MLK Day, at least. But what do you gals think?
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The one thing you can always count on Washington for is a certain stubborn blindness to cool. There are plenty of bars and restaurants, but they never quite add up to a "scene." Trends arrive at least two or three years late—witness the recent excitement over cupcakes and tangy yogurt. In New York, young fashion designers come and go. But in D.C., Ann Taylor will always occupy a special place on Connecticut Avenue.
That was true until Friday. Now, witness some scenes from the new pimped-up city that is Washington in the Obama years
- Tom Hanks standing outside the virtual rope line at Maureen Dowd's party, unable to get in.
- Larry David and Ron Howard yukking it up inside.
- A variety show on the mall, which, let's be frank, felt a lot more like the Oscars than anything having to do with politics.
- Several motorcades NOT carrying George Bush or Dick Cheney. (We know this because the cars were white and studded with lights.)
- Several lost denizens of Park Slope wandering the city with big, long dry cleaning bags.
- Caught in the Metro doors last night: one white mink, one sparkly mermaid tail of a ball gown, one rhinestone glove.
- Overheard on the Metro: "I just had to run inside and get some pasties."
- Overheard in the office: "Oprah called."
Like many transplanted New Yorkers, I have always complained about D.C.'s dowdiness. Now, I realize there are things I will miss. A city like this is relatively good for women since it prizes intelligence and hard work above all. Unlike in N.Y. or L.A., my friends here do not spend their late 30s contemplating Botox and lifts. How long will that last if Beyoncé keeps visiting?