Lady in Red: An Intimate Portrait of Nancy Reagan - Hardcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

SHEILA TATE served as press secretary to First Lady Nancy Reagan from 1981 to 1985. After leaving the White House staff, she co-founded the Washington D.C. public relations firm Powell Tate. Sheila served as press secretary to George H. W. Bush during his successful campaign for the presidency in 1988, and for his transition. Sheila remained in close touch with Nancy Reagan after the Reagans returned to California, speaking with her often until Mrs. Reagan's passing in 2016.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

1

Elegance and Style

My first assignment in December 1980, as the newly named press secretary for Nancy Reagan, was to entrust one of the Reagan advance men with the highly confidential assignment of driving to New York City to pick up the final glossy sketches of Nancy’s inaugural wardrobe. Now, thirty-eight years later, I am free to unmask my accomplice. Mark Hatfield, son of Senator Mark Hatfield of Oregon, took on the assignment. Mark Jr., my hero, did not disappoint.

When he returned to our nation’s capital, he met me in the parking lot of transition headquarters where we transferred the contraband from his trunk to mine. Sounds a bit like Deep Throat, doesn’t it?

It really was important to keep those designs secret until Nancy wore those outfits. There had been instances in past presidencies where this kind of information was leaked in advance. It puts a real damper on the excitement of the day. I believe the worst example was when Lynda Bird Johnson was marrying Chuck Robb; drawings of her wedding dress designed by Geoffrey Beene were leaked to Women’s Wear Daily before Lynda’s special, historic White House wedding took place.

Nancy’s outfit on Inauguration Day—a red crepe day dress with a red twill coat and hat—was created by American designer Adolfo. Its brilliant red hue quickly became known as Reagan red. She favored that color for the rest of her life. It became an essential part of her style.

I thought it was the perfect color for her. Not that she consulted me on that subject! After all, less than ten days earlier I had been working at a large public relations firm’s Washington office, directing national publicity efforts in favor of continued regulation of the trucking industry. I’d never even heard of Adolfo before.

Shortly before the January 20, 1981, swearing‑in and at some time during the luncheon in the Capitol, our new president, Ronald Reagan, was able to announce that our American heroes—held hostage for 444 days in Iran—had been released and had just cleared Iranian airspace on their way home. As an added grace note, he dispatched former president Jimmy Carter, who worked tirelessly to bring them home, to meet the hostages as they reached safety.

All of America celebrated. The National Christmas Tree on the Ellipse between the White House and the Washington Monument was lit that night in celebration for the first time since they had been taken hostage. That evening the Reagans danced at eight inaugural balls, Nancy in a glittering white gown and gorgeous satin coat designed by James Galanos, another top American designer. The president, by the way, wore a tuxedo. I do not know who designed it. It was black.

Those balls were packed with ecstatic Republicans from across the country. I was present at the ball held at the Capital Hilton where the coat check line snaked around the block. In truth, it was no more glamorous than a high school prom, except we did have alcohol. In paper cups. Funny the things one remembers. I also remember that it was so overcrowded that every foray onto the dance floor ended up with some man stepping on my feet.

The ballroom came alive when the new president and First Lady arrived. Everyone knew they were witnessing the beginning of an exciting new presidential term. I was thrilled to be even a small part of it. It was one of the few presidential events that I would not have to work; the West Wing presidential advance people took charge. I got to be a witness to history.

Nancy’s inaugural gown, in keeping with long-standing tradition, was eventually donated to the Smithsonian. I grew up in the DC suburbs and for as long as I can remember, the wing of the American History Museum that houses its gown collection has always been the most popular exhibit at the Smithsonian. Folks at the Smithsonian confirmed that fact when I was working on the details of Nancy’s donation. The oldest inaugural gown in the museum’s collection dates from 1829 and belonged to Andrew Johnson’s niece. The oldest First Lady’s gown in the Smithsonian collection—not part of an inauguration—belonged to none other than Martha Washington.

Nancy Reagan really was an American classic. Her style and grace has held up through the decades. It took care, thought, and planning to be the First Lady, and she understood that her image was important.

Imagine having to attend multiple public events nearly every day. Imagine at least twenty of those events every year are formal in nature. And imagine having the media documenting, photographing, and commenting on every outfit you wear.

Some First Ladies have been publicly adjudged to be frumpy; others to have poor taste. And lord help you if you wore something too frequently; the style press would not be kind to you.

Nancy organized her wardrobe to keep track of when each outfit was worn. Other First Ladies had also found this tactic helpful, but I’d never seen it before and found it amazing. A tag hung from each outfit listing the dates and events to which it had been worn.

Sometimes, her outfit made the news when we didn’t intend it. When Nancy wore her fur coat in public one cold winter evening, we received bags of critical mail. Almost all of it was generated by animal rights activists and it was pretty ugly.

And once, at a congressional wives’ reception on the Hill one rainy day, Susan Watters from Women’s Wear Daily insisted I find out from Nancy how to describe the vivid quilted purple outfit she was wearing. I slipped into the front of the receiving line and quietly asked Nancy how to describe it. She said, “It’s a purple rain outfit.” I returned to Susan with that information, but the press was not yet satisfied. Another reporter had a follow‑up: she asked me to interrupt Nancy once more and find out what kind of fur trim was on the collar. I lost my patience and said something to the effect of “It’s a dead animal.” I learned quickly that one did not make light references to expired furry creatures connected to First Ladies. My mail was highly negative to put it mildly. One said: “I have seen your type; your vacant stare; your empty eyes.” My personal favorite letter came addressed to “King Ronald, Queen Nancy and Princess Sheila.” I was royalty!

By far Nancy’s greatest volume of mail during my years of service dealt with fashion. Nancy generally looked great in whatever she wore and that was what a lot of Americans were interested in.

Nancy made only one major style misstep as First Lady that I can recall: the infamous knickers.

The Reagans were on a European trip in early June 1982, and while in Paris, they attended a party in honor of François Mitterrand at the American ambassador’s residence. We were all enjoying the evening when the press in attendance suddenly perked up. Helen Thomas of UPI pulled me aside and said, in her serious, authoritative, rather piercing Helen Thomas voice, “What the hell is she wearing?” I realized that I had failed to find out in advance the details of her outfit. There was such a stir among the press corps that I had to pull Nancy aside and ask for the details.

The knickers were a James Galanos creation—a black chiffon skirt over rhinestone-studded black satin knickers. Those knickers were publicized worldwide. I regret never asking Nancy why she chose to wear that outfit. I suspect she wanted to make a big fashion statement in Paris, the center of haute couture. The sensation, thankfully, was short-lived.

January 20 is the constitutionally required date for routine presidential inaugurations. In 1985, that happened to be on a Sunday that was also Super Bowl Sunday. So it was...