The Trump Convention Highlights: Melania Trump Statement Suit and the Bandage Trend
Melania Trump ultimately accepted her spot at her partner’s side on the last night of the Republican convention, right on time for his formal selection as the party’s presidential nominee.
She happened to be the last among the Trump children to arrive at her arrival at Fiserv Auditorium in Milwaukee, stoking anticipation until the very last. She came far after Ivanka Trump and her husband, Jared Kushner, who had been mainly absent throughout the presidential race; Don Jr. and the woman he proposed to, Kimberly Guilfoyle; Eric Trump, the candidate, and his wife, Lara; and Tiffany Donald and her husband, Michael Boulos. (Barron Donald Trump, Donald Trump’s son with her, did not present, but other grandkids did.)
Melania Trump strolled in alone, clothed in a crimson suit and tall red shoes, her hair down as well, and gave queenly waves onto the admiring audience.
If the outfit struck an emotional response, it’s simply because it was one that had been seen previously. Melania Trump had donned the Dior outfit, with its sleek new silhouette, in 2017, during the time she visited Paris alongside her lover for the Bastille Day festivities. For anybody who recalled that outfit, seeing it again was like drifting back to the recent past whenever the Trumps inhabited the White House—another reminder, like the virtual White House displayed behind Mr. Trump during his address, of the convention’s underlying theme.
Melania Trump was providing a preview of the way she may again play her role. (Not to overlook that, despite Mr. Trump’s remarks about manufacture in America and purchasing American, she never seemed especially interested in that notion.)
It was a reminder of just how powerful an accessory the former first lady may make when she wishes, both in the discipline of image-creation as well as in political strategy.
Accessory have played a crucial role in this conference. Outré touches are typically part the overall scene—the Wisconsin cheese hats, the Texas-style Stetsons, the imaginative deployments of flags and stripes—but this time, more than others, they have been key, primarily because to the white gauze bandages over Mr. Trump’s ear.
As much as an extra layer of protection, the bandage reflected the assassination attempt at a gathering the previous Saturday, an act Mr. Trump recalled somberly at the outset of his address. It became a storehouse of emotions and significance for the crowd: a marker of their candidate’s resistance, sacrifice, and, as speech after speaker declared, his God-given deliverance. It became a mobilizing accessory.
The bandage surfaced on Day 1 of the event, and by Day 2, a few participants were wearing homemade white rectangles of their own. By Day 3, free ear patches were being given out outside the convention venue, and false bandages had become a trend—a show of “love,” one participant observed. By Day 4, wearing bandages had become a meme, featuring a video comparing it to some of the lemming-like secondary school habits satirized in “The Mean Girls.”
However, no one carried their bandage with as much elegance as Mr. Trump himself, from beginning to finish. That was the moment that the Trump family, in particular Senator J.D. Vance and his wife, Usha, approached Mr. Trump onstage to wave to the audience, a picture of togetherness so respectfully color-coordinated that it represented the fashion equivalent of the topic of discussion.
Mr. Trump dressed in his typical blue suit, immaculate white shirt, and brilliant red tie, and every other individual was in versions on the subject.
Not just was Mrs. Donald in red, but so were Mrs. Vance and Ms. Guilfoyle. Ivanka donned a white skirt suit, and Tiffany wore trousers. In blue suits: all the Trump guys and Mr. Vance, who, along with his running partner and Eric, had red ties.
The one exception was Lara Trump, the Republican National Committee co-chair, who dressed in a black suit. But that didn’t minimize the impact, particularly when red, white, and blue air balloons, enhanced by gold, fell from the ceiling.
Mr. Trump has long grasped the promise implied in his penchant to dress like the American flag and the identification of self and the country that it connotes. With his family arranged around him in similar attire, he took the picture to the next level.
It left a final image that reminded me a me a little more than of a family greeting card, the “Trumpomania” variety (to reference Hulk Hogan, who spoke at the convention shortly before Mr. Trump), although one sent out to the globe.