Press Hails the Dress

I've always thought that one of America's best selling points was that it never had a king. If there is one thing that defines us as a people, as opposed to all other peoples, it is this fact. Every other nation in the world has a dozen or so of those embarrassing chapters from the past to live down. Not us. The moment of our conception was a rejection of the very idea of kings. All of that goes out the window whenever we have a presidential inauguration. The urge to turn the White House into Buckingham Palace (or, more to the point, Camelot) is one of the oldest and most shameful traditions of the media age, but this disgusting phenomenon always heats to whiteness during inauguration week, regardless of what party is ascending to power. What a splendiferous reception hall! Look at all the rich and tasty things on the banquet table! Why, it must be a hundred feet long!

"Paula, set the stage from your perspective," gushed serial ass-kisser Wolf Blitzer, as he threw to Paula Zahn, standing at the inauguration site, on CNN. "This is a majestic moment for the entire country!"

We heard about all the majesty; from the scalloped crab, roasted Missouri quail, chestnuts and brined root vegetables at the post-inauguration congressional luncheon ("Mmm, scalloped crab sounds good," said CNN anchor Carol Costello) to the mariachi band, Cohiba cigars and "buffet tables loaded with Tex-Mex fare" at the "Black Tie & Boots" ball the night before ("I feel very simpatico with the people of Texas," offered shameless-hanger-on-in-a-cowboy-hat Rudy Giuliani) to the elegant inauguration lunch at Statuary Hall in the Capitol ("It's majestic," repeated the fixated Blitzer. "What a beautiful hall, for those of our viewers who have never been inside the U.S. Capitol ..."). And so on and so on. Then there was this Washington Times description of the king stepping into the courtyard to meet his subjects at the Boogie Ball:

At 9:30 p.m., Mr. Bush and his wife, first lady Laura Bush, took the stage with daughters Jenna and Barbara, and the crowd went wild. Mrs. Bush wore a rose silk taffeta Carolina Herrera ensemble with a Western touch – a full skirt and bodice resembling a button-down shirt. Jenna wore black and white, and Barbara seafoam green.

"It's nice to be home," the president told the throng. "Or as close to home as you can get in Washington."

Then, to even louder cheers, Mr. Bush said, "The best decision I ever made was asking Laura to marry me."

Katie Couric was in the receiving line. "Many of us forget what's in the speeches, because a lot of us are focused on what the first lady is wearing," she gushed, as she introduced de la Renta on her show. "And wait no longer, this is a gown first lady Laura Bush will wear to this evening's inaugural balls. It's a silvery blue number designed by Oscar de la Renta ... ."

Introducing the designer, she said, "Hi, Oscar. May I call you Oscar?"

She asked permission, ladies and gentlemen. Oscar consented.

de la Renta then did his job. The playbook for celebrity suck-up is universal. Like Angelo Dundee dutifully telling ESPN at the premiere of Ali that Will Smith could have been a top-flight middleweight instead of an actor, de la Renta pulled out the standard pre-fight hype: Laura had the "most extraordinary sort of blue eyes I've ever seen in any lady," that blue with a little turquoise was the only possible color for such a specimen, etc., etc. But Katie just couldn't get past the name thing.