Monday marked the official start date for our new social secretary, Julianna Smoot. Ms.NBC has done their obligatory suck-up piece and WaPo has done an excellent job mourning the passage of our dearly departed Diva, Desi (dddd); “(her) departure has the fashion industry practically in mourning. No one has expressed a whiff of excitement over her replacement, Julianna Smoot. Instead, there’s concern that Washington might end up in cultural retreat.”
I hate to disagree with the WaPo, but while the fashion industry may be less than excited about Julie being on board, The DNC is frothing at the mouth. And they don’t seem to give a fig about the new social secretary’s wardrobe. All they care about is the fact that she presided over the fund raising for Big Guy’s $750 million presidency: and she comes with all those phone numbers and emails in her Blackberry. We traded our fashionista in on a cash-inista.
And I think you’ll agree, Lady M will be much more comfortable with Julie too. Which southern belle would you rather stand next to when showing off your toned guns: the ex-Zulu Queen from N’Oleans,
this genteel, matronly-looking ATM from South Carolina? And did I mention that Smootie also worked for the American Association of Trial Lawyers? That could prove useful in the unlikely event of future Big White indictments. But here’s the real benefit of that association - noted in the upper right hand corner:
So while many in the media are still coming to terms with the loss of our dddd, I’m inclined to agree with Michelle Malkin’s succinct summary of Desi’s demise: “Three words: Boo-freaking-hoo.” (Although technically that’s just one - expletive infixation - word. I can’t help myself, it’s in my hard drive.)
And even though dddd was one of Lady M’s nearest and dearest Chicago friends, I can assure you – she’s glad she’s gone too.