Vogue Praises 'The Genius of Obama’s Mom Jeans'
In one the most impressive feats of journalistic fawning over Barack Obama, fashion industry flagship Vogue magazine has managed to take one of the President's most laughable habits -- wearing the universally ridiculed “mom jeans” - and twist it into an endearing quality.
In part 6 of a 12-part series "celebrating the legacy of President Barack Obama and his administration," Vogue's Maya Singer riffed on Obama's fashion faux pas as a reflection of his charmingly naive, irrepressible hopefulness.
(Why does a fashion magazine feel compelled to devote 12 articles to shoring up the legacy of the worst President in American history, you may understandably ask? Because media bias.)
Even Singer admits that Obama's jeans -- "debuted during the ’08 campaign, on a bicycle; seen again in ’09, when Obama threw out the first pitch at the All-Star Game; once worn, grimace-inducingly, with black sandals and a floppy short-sleeved button-down" -- are "[n]ot a good look."
Indeed not. Mom jeans are a bad look even for moms. On the male leader of a country, they signal an absolute absence of gravitas , dignity, and strength. Imagine Putin in mom jeans. You can't, can you? That's because Putin would have you killed for offering him a pair. He might even have you killed just for imagining him in them.
Singer's challenge as a good little Obama fangirl was how to turn that look into a positive. She did it by explaining that "the genius of Barack Obama is that he contains multitudes."
After a lengthy, vomit-inducing appreciation of what she calls Obama's intellectual "rigor" and "deadpan wit," and comparing his vision to that of the "great humanist novelists of the 19th century" ("He sees big and he sees small"), Singer concludes thusly:
Which brings me to hope, and mom jeans. Because the one errant trait in Obama is his hopefulness. Against reason, against experience, he just keeps hoping. The word may forever be associated with him, thanks to Shepard Fairey and that iconic poster from the 2008 campaign, and eight years later, Obama’s well of hope has yet to run dry. For a man so tuned to rigor, his hope—that the crowds that swelled for him in his first campaign would mobilize on behalf of his agenda; that institutional norms would trump partisanship in Congress; that decent people sitting together in a room can hammer out solutions to complicated problems—comes across as unbelievably, unbearably, uncharacteristically naive. But hope is Obama’s mom jeans. It’s a dorky fetish he just can’t quit. Does he know better? Probably. But there he goes, cycling into the sunset in the psychological equivalent of faded, baggy pants too long in the hem and too high in the waist. He’s made good on more of our hopes than we had any right to expect.
Bravo, Ms. Singer, bravo. It is no small achievement of mental gymnastics to put a positive spin on a president who wears mom jeans.
Vogue does have one tiny complaint about Obama. Singer wishes that he had charted "a more radical course" as President. The Marxist-inspired, anti-colonialist, Saul Alinsky acolyte who pushed the country toward a fundamental transformation wasn't radical enough for Vogue.