Obviously there has been a glut of tell-all books that have come out during the Trump administration, any one of which would have been a career-defining, if not career-ending, scandal in any other presidency. But Trump and his family seem immune to even the most scandalous accusations because Trump voters like the fact that he’s an unapologetic jackass. Perhaps they saw a bit of themselves in him. Thus, to the extent that books come out proving that every one of them is awful, it only goes to confirm what their supporters expect. Besides, it all triggers the libs, the only platform policy that matters to MAGA heads. Owning the libs makes America great, even as it all falls apart.

“Melania and Me” is truly the defining work on Melania. The book feels genuine because it;s written by Melania’s former best friend, Stephanie Winston Wolkoff.  Additionally, the worst details sound exactly like what one would expect given the subject. Wolkoff would likely still be Melania’s best friend were it not for the fact that the Trumps needed a scapegoat for all the millions that mysteriously disappeared from their inauguration committee. Wolkoff and Melania were “besties” until Melania needed a villain more than a friend. That’s Melania, she can always buy a new friend.

Wolkoff’s clear message is that Melania gets whatever the fck she wants and it doesn’t matter if the “visuals” lead one to conclude that Melania is a heartless, self-absorbed, whiny entitled brat. She will accept the reputation so long as she still gets whatever she damned well wants. The following paragraph sums up everything Melania, brought to us by Vanity Fair from the book:

 If Melania had her sights set on wearing Karl Lagerfeld, she wore Karl Lagerfeld. If she wanted to wear stilettos to visit a hurricane-ravaged town, she wore stilettos. If she wanted to be referred to on a Christmas card as “First Lady-Elect,” even though no other first-lady-to-be had used the term because, as Wolkoff reminded her, it is not an elected position, she did it anyway. “Melania,” she writes, “Did. Not. Care.” 

Given the only genuine vibe Melania ever sends is, “I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks,” the story is entirely believable. Melania may be the only human being capable of using a trip to see suffering children as the perfect opportunity to really “open up” with an unmistakable message: She didn’t give a flying fck! That’s ice. Ever the “model,” all pictures seem to perfectly capture her soul, frozen solid and packed behind eyes so surgically perfect that one wonders if they’re attached to anything with blood.

It is possible that she’s outlasted every other Trump wife because Donald’s scared to death of how quickly she’d destroy him if she thought it might help her a bit. It sounds like she could leave him in a puddle of tears before 10:30 a.m. and then go have a $225 lunch, leaving some chump to pay.

And yet she apparently senses no irony at all when she slams Ivanka and the Trump family for having the same “killer” attitude as Melania:

After hearing that Ivanka had worn a Kaufman Franco dress for an event, Melania said, “Forget it.” According to Wolkoff, “If Ivanka was dressed by a designer, Melania would cross them off her list.” At one point, Melania apparently warned Wolkoff in a text: “You know how they are snakes.”

No doubt, “they” are snakes. But the fact that Melania lives so comfortably in that den – indeed demanding they spruce up the den to make her more comfortable – we question whether she ever wonders what that makes her? It is pretty clear.