Yesterday the first lady went to Virginia to deliver a couple sacks of toys to the Marine Corps Reserve Toys for Tots program in Quantico. She had a small pool of press that followed her and so we all piled into two vans that brought up the rear of her motorcade. I've got to say that even bouncing along in a van, there is nothing quite like cutting through DC area traffic in a motorcade. Trips that can take 45 minutes in real time are compressed to maybe 30 minutes, even 20. You certainly feel for the motorists who have grudgingly pulled over and are staring at the cars zipping by in a combination of curiosity and annoyance. But, I'll be frank, if I had a motorcade I'd be tempted to plan a road trip practically every day. Road trip to Starbucks! Road trip to the gym! I am not going to try and be cool: the motorcade rocks.

The first lady dropped off her toys and said some kind words to the volunteers for all their hard work. And then, she actually spoke -- SPOKE -- to her press pool!! She implored us to note in our stories that the Toys for Tots program is low on toys for older kids, those ages 10-14. Since I am not a Scrooge and I am very big on Christmas, I happily obliged. Besides, it was the only bit of actual news amidst the charm.

In this era of get every story up on the web as fast as humanly possible, I wrote my short story during the return trip on my Blackberry. I'm not one to get car sick, but I am one to get really head-achey in a car if I try to read. I frankly get a little nauseus. I guess maybe I do get car sick. Can I get a little combat pay?

During the trip, topics of conversation included Tiger Woods, Salahis, Christmas vacation and more Tiger Woods. When the pool reporter wondered if Mrs. Obama had cut her hair, we quickly shouted that line of questioning down. No, no, it was just rolled under.

She's growing it out I hear. And yes, I've actully got sources who update me on the state of the first lady's hair. On so many levels, I find that deeply disturbing.

So I was standing in the security line outside the White House east gate awaiting clearance to go in for the White House press party when I was going to start twittering about how the landscaping in front of the Treasury Building, which is what I was standing next to, smelled distinctly like manure. (I'm so glad that the government is being green and stuff, but ew!) But I declined to twitter and instead decided to engage with the actual people standing around me. Take that technology!

So, yes indeedy I managed to make the cut for the annual Christmas reception -- although I think it is technically called a Holiday reception. So I responded so very promply to the White House social secretary.

Desiree Rogers -- recently under fire in the midst of the state dinner crashers story -- proved her grace under pressure. She was there smiling and greeting the press as we entered the White House. (I.d./name check took place approximately three separate times.)

The people's house looked lovely as it was all aglow and the decorations, which I sort of poo-pooed when they were first unveiled looked much lovelier in the evening when everything was lit. (And the champagne was flowing.) There were musicians playing on all floors, including a jazz band in the East Room where a drummer was pounding out a solo riff.

Oh and the food! Best sushi, EVER! I tried not to be a piglet but the Maryland crab rolls were especially tasty. The beef was spot on and tender enough to cut with only a fork. Lots of champagne. Did I mention that? Egg nog. Which I did not have. Crazy desserts including some sort of buttery, nutty, toffee cookie delight. No gingerbread that I could find -- my personal favorite -- but the buttery, nutty thing made up for it.

My tax dollars were used to fine effect.

There was a receiving line that moved relatively briskly considering all the people. And that savvy Rogers set up the line so that it swirled around an hors d'oevre table -- in case anyone got hungry -- and past a bar -- in case anyone got thirsty. The Obamas, of course, had been trapped there greeting and posing for pictures pretty much all evening. But they were still quite perky by the time I was announced and did the grip and grin. He made reference to a column I'd written in which I'd mentioned his shirt cuffs. (Yes, the man had done his homework. Very good advance work.) He asked my thoughts on Mrs. Obama's dress. Winter white silk velvet (I think) sheath. Nice.

Chat, chat. Snap, snap. And we were done.

The attire was business, but that did not stop some ladies from wearing stretch satin cocktail extravaganzas with bedazzled strappy sandals. Have at it ladies.

All in all, it was a very gracious evening. The White House was splendid. The press was well-behaved. And as soon as I got home, I called my parents to tell them all about it.

I went to a lovely dinner last night for my friend Jill Hudson Neal, who is the new fashion editor of Washingtonian magazine. It was great to see her in her much deserved glory. She's been sussing out the best of Washington style for a long time. I first met her when I arrived at the Post and she was working in Style and provided my first entry into the world of Washington fashion.

The dinner was at Muleh, a groovy, earthy boutique that mixes fashion and home design. Love the light fixtures! And the table was done up by Andre Wells, who basically made me want to have some sort of swanky dinner party at my home just so I could use his services. I love a mile long, glamorously outfitted table.

It was a beautiful evening and further proof that Washington has a lot of style going on.

For the rest of the week, I'm staying home. Going out two weeknights in a row? Highly irregular for me!

I went to a lovely event at the French Ambassador's home last night. That's one of the great things about Washington, the world of diplomatic glamour. And yes, I think there is something inherently glamourous about a party in a super gorgeous mansion in Kalorama with a grand staircase, imposing oil paintings and lots and lots of champagne. The event was to honor the Congressional French Caucus, which if I understood things correctly, spends a lot of time keeping U.S./French relations on a friendly and even path. Clearly, they had their work cut out for them over the last few years!

 

But all was fashion and bubbly last night as LVMH brought in the Christian Dior cruise collection and models showed it off on that grand staircase. Very pretty, indeed. Cruise is one of those in-between collections that is all about wearable clothes as opposed to runway drama. And there was lots to like about a trim leopard print sheath. I should have taken a few iPhone snaps, but I was in the back of the crowd and well, my hands were full -- evening bag in one, glass of champagne in the other.

 

A friend from college placed her orders for a few frocks right on the spot. She's got quite the eye and looked insanely chic last night in her black leather Dior dress.

 

I'm still getting feedback from the Desiree Rogers story and most people -- except those who have been commenting on the Post website -- seem to think it was tough but fair.  I have been invited to the press holiday party at the White House next week, which I think is evidence that the folks over there are professionals who don't take things personally. I plan to go, of course, and am hopeful that the gingerbread cookies will be plentiful!  

I wrote a column that looked at how we make assumptions about people based on their appearance. Namely, in the case of the Salahis -- the White House party crashers -- the blondeness of Michaele worked in the couples' favor. I won't go into all the details of the column, a link is posted above, but the point is that we make assumptions about who people are based on how they look. We make instant decisions about whether they belong. And we allow stereotypes to cloud our judgement.

Because I was critical, some people say, I must be jealous. Why is it that when a woman criticizes another woman, jealousy must be the motivation? Do men get that?

I have to say that sometimes I get so aggravated when I get a note from some reader aggrieved because I've written about the clothes of some public official. I was especially  annoyed when someone wrote complaining that too much attention was being paid to the dress that White House social secretary Desiree Rogers wore the night of the Obamas' first state dinner. When I saw her walk past the press line in that Comme des Garcons dress, my head practically swiveled off my neck in shock. That was a seriously fashion forward dress.That was a doctoral level fashion choice -- something not for those who think that belting their J. Crew cardigan is a big deal. You don't wear something like that if you don't want or mind a little attention. That single dress, I thought, said a lot about who Rogers is and how she sees herself.

While I was covering the now infamous state dinner, I asked House Speaker Nancy Pelosi if her sleek gown was by Giorgio Armani. The look on her face was, I thought, withering. I was a little worried I'd be getting an official letter in the mail warning: No health care for you!

But the Speaker is a classy lady and personally called to tell me that the look was not meant for me but that it was a look of frustration that she hadn't bothered to check to see who the designer was because of course she'd be asked. She apologized that her expression came across the way that it did. I'd say that was a really kind thing to do.

Her call struck a chord witih me in another way. Because in the story from the state dinner, there was a production foul up and the restaurant Aquavit was mis-identified as Swiss when it is Swedish. I had to assure every foodies and every Swede in town that really, I knew that a mistake had been made and that a correction was in the works. But now I think an apology to Aquavit chef Marcus Samuelsson is in order. That would be the Pelosi thing to do.