Did you know that ABC still has a Sunday talk show? I didn’t either. I thought they shuttered it when George Stephanopoulos left for GMA, which I think is a subsidiary of General Motors. But apparently Elizabeth Vargas still hosts a show with Sam Donaldson, (you remember him - from the Nixon administration?) Cokie Roberts, Paul Krugman and their token right wingnut, George Will.
They spent the largest part of last Sunday’s show talking about our little Desiree. And Cokie would know a thing or two about her, since they are both New Orleans debutantes, just from different Krewes (and generations). Although I can tell you that Cokie and Desi are great friends, so you might get to see her as a special guest on the Sunday show in the future. That’s how George got his start too. So there’s something to look forward to.
Anyway, my point: Elizabeth was talking to everyone – well, mostly Sam and Cokie - about Desi’s sudden and unexpected departure from the Big White:
"[O]f course, this weekend, we have a brand-new White House social secretary appointed to replace Desiree Rogers, a close friend of the Obamas who is exiting after a bumpy tenure, I would say. Cokie, you spoke with her. She -- she was highly criticized after the Obamas' first state dinner in which she arrived, looking absolutely gorgeous, but in what some people later said was far too fancy a dress…
Now, I don’t often comment on the talking heads who get paid for doing what we all do for free, but come ON! Too fancy for an official state dinner? Apparently these people have never been to an official state dinner at the Big White. There is no such thing as too fancy.
Perhaps if Desi had worn the full headscarf as shown on the runway model’s version of the Comme Des Garcons gown it would have been too much. But as you can see, she did not. And just because it’s adorned with pearls, how could anyone claim that this deconstructed rendition of Granny Clampett’s party frock, with an ironic nod to her work-a-day apron and knee pads, was too dressy?
The Clampett’s of Beverly Hills
Class: you’ve either got it or you don’t.