From the increasingly misnamed neo-neocon, a bit of political fashion commentary:
Shortly after Donald Trump was elected, I said that one thing I planned to enjoy was Melania’s fashions.
And so I have.
I especially love the simple, elegant suit that Melania wore today on her visit to France. Not everyone can wear these midi skirts; it helps to be tall, and Melania is almost six feet tall even without her heels, so she can wear it with tremendous panache (hey, that’s French!).
I point out merely for completeness that Michelle Obama is almost six feet tall even without her heels, though I concede that this red suit would not have been ideally cut for her; Mrs O would not have looked her best with that skirt length.
Then there’s Mme Macron’s dress, which is not especially loved:
I feel for Macron’s wife Brigitte having to stand next to her. Not only is she about fifteen years older than Melania, but she’s so much smaller she would look like a pipsqueak in comparison no matter what she wore. But I see her choice as especially infelicitous. A miniskirt? Why? I know she must think her legs are her best feature (I share that conceit about myself) and the legs tend to be the last thing to go, but miniskirts except for the most casual of occasions are not flattering to those over 60. Maybe not even for those over 50. They make us look somewhat desperate, I think.
I admit here that I’m not entirely sure about that last bit. In my experience — caution: small sample — women who think their legs are their best feature are usually correct in this judgment, and with few exceptions, they know how to deploy them for maximum effect. This shot of Mme Macron on the beach, wearing a presumably tiny swimsuit and a short coverup, persuades me that she knows what she’s doing. Admittedly, beachwear is expected to be somewhat abbreviated, and it seems unlikely that she’d wear a dress that short, but the First Rule of Hemlines — you can go as high as you like so long as you don’t expose something that really ought not to be exposed — tells me that she could go at least a couple of inches above the knee without any hint of scandal. (And, come to think of it, she has.) For a woman my age (we were both born the same year) this isn’t exactly miraculous, but it is something I would never, ever want to discourage.