Donald Trump posed that question about his press secretary to a crowd at his recent rally in Pennsylvania. Let’s answer that: no

Karoline Leavitt at the most recent press briefing. Screen shot: ap/YouTube

During his most recent rally in Pennsylvania, Donald Trump smothered his press secretary Karoline Leavitt with high praise. In fact, he did not just adulate her; he practically nominated her for beatification and drafted the acceptance speech. While telling his base what they came to relish about the economy, he suddenly singled Ms Leavitt out: “Who do we see there? We even brought our superstar today, Karoline. Isn’t she great? Is Karoline great?” There’s nothing wrong with a boss admiring the work of a subordinate, publicly, but adulation for a 28-year-old from an octogenarian, who went on to described her visage as “that beautiful face”, is hardly comfort viewing. Cringey comedy, it seems, can be mistaken for career boost.

One can reluctantly accept the “superstar” praise, even if the internal memo explaining the methodology appears to be classified, but to call her “great” is to put her squarely in the company of people who have actually built empires, rather than deliver daily press statements with the virulence of a holiday fruitcake recipe that won’t leave the New Hampshire state archives. But she is no Catherine the Great (since Mr Trump is so enamoured with Russia), the monarch known known for a transformative 34-year reign (1762–1796) during which she successfully orchestrated a massive national rebranding, expanded the footprint significantly, and essentially turned Russia into a must-read chapter in the textbook of European history. Ms Leavitt’s only expanding footprint is the one she leaves on the floor of the James S. Brady Press Briefing Room.

Cringey comedy, it seems, can be mistaken for career boost

The word ‘great’ and its Latin root, maiesta (from which we get Majesty), historically denoted the supreme, almost divine, status and dignity of a sovereign or the state itself. In Rome, maiestas was not casual; it was codified in law (lex maiestatis), protecting the honor of the emperor and the Republic. To diminish it was treason. In the U.S., anything can be great. A question, a suggestion, a dress. a cup of coffee. In American political usage, it means generating impact and approval from the the leader or the base. “Great” in Trumpland has moved from being a title that demands respect to a high-praise endorsement that reflects a successful political performance. The “homegrown conservative” is now of royal stock. But while Catherine the Great rebranded Russia into a European powerhouse, Karoline the Great rebrands Mr Trump’s controversies into digestible talking points, which is easy to do because, as Mr Trump said, “we have the right policy.”

But Mr Trump did not mention the walking contradiction that Ms Leavitt is to those policies. At her first press briefing after the Pennsylvania rally, she appeared before the members of the media in a black blazer-dress with a white border of pleats. It looks to us a trending-on-TikTok item by the Chinese-owned brand Commense that interestingly has an office in New York. The transnational brand describes their provenance on their website as “based in New York and Shanghai”. Commense is owned by Infinite Waves, a Chinese company founded by veterans from the tech world, including, reportedly, an alumnus of ByteDance (the creator of TikTok). The clothes, including what Ms Leavitt wore, are made in China. The America First policy is probably tucked away in the pocket of that dress.

Donald Trump calling Karoline Leavitt during his speech at the recent Pennsylvania rally. Screen shot: theindependent/YouTube

Her outfit, while typically feminine, was rather odd for the rostrum. You immediately noticed the profound, a-tad-too-big shoulders. It was hard not to think that she was paying tribute to her boss’s sartorial style, to thank him for his earlier praise. The shoulder pads perched precariously on her shoulders, as if they were hovering only through sheer force of political ambition and wool wadding. She hulked over her audience, giving the entire event the unfortunate energy of a school principal catching a group of unsupervised primary one students. The entire blazer was without trims except for the sole decorative button pivoted to the left side of her waist. Closest to feminine flourish is the incongruent white pleats above her knee. Perhaps there is a political axiom here: to align with your boss, absorb his physical silhouette.

“And those lips that don’t stop,” Mr Trump went on at the rally. “Pop-pop-pop like a little machine gun.” Likening her lip movements to automatic weapons was not new, but now it took on a sudden, ironic freshness when you consider he is the curious owner of the FIFA Peace Prize—a title apparently reserved for those battling the disconnect between their mantelpiece and their metaphor arsenal. Donald Trump’s fervid acclamations of Karoline Leavitt was personal endorsement that confirmed her status as a loyal political warrior in a high-stakes cultural battle. But her love for made-in-China clothes posits that the administration’s anti-China rhetoric is purely for political consumption, while even its own personnel rely on the global supply chains they criticize. The press secretary likely paid the tariffs on her Commense blazer-dress to support the president’s economic stance, adding another layer of complexity to the optics. Delightful.