On the eve of Ronald Reagan’s first inaugural in 1981, Frank Sinatra performed Nancy With the Reagan Face for his dear friend: I’m so proud that you’re first lady, Nancy, And so pleased that I’m sort of a chum/ The next eight years will be fancy, As fancy as they come.And fancy they were: White-tie parties. Fur coats. Limousines. Washington has always embraced both wealth and privilege, as long as it’s done well. John and Jackie Kennedy defined modern aristocratic grace and transformed a sleepy political capital into a world-class city. But then came Lyndon Johnson’s Texas thunder, Richard Nixon’s dour intensity, Gerald Ford’s Midwest earnestness, and Jimmy Carter’s down-home modesty. Just when natives despaired there would never be another reason to break out the Important Jewels, the Reagans swept into the White House with a heady combination of old-fashioned charm, money and Hollywood style. And Washington lapped it up. ‘‘It became the true centre not simply of government but of glamour,’’ said Ken Duberstein, Reagan’s White House chief of staff. ‘‘Georgetown parties were ‘in’ again. So were tuxedos and, occasionally, white tails. People got dressed up to go to dinner.’’ Washington’s establishment found plenty to like about the couple. First, the president liked Washington—or at least said he did. ‘‘The difference between the word ‘president’ and ’resident’ is only one letter,’’ Reagan once said. ‘‘I want to feel that I am both the president and a resident of Washington.’’ There was an undeniable charisma around this former movie star, a quality that won over even the most serious of Washington’s elite. ‘‘I can remember people talking about how you could disagree with his politics and programmes, but if you spent five minutes with the man you couldn’t help but like him,’’ said Elaine Crispen, former press secretary to Nancy Reagan. Everything in the nation’s capital became more formal, reported Glamour magazine in 1981. Fancy parties got fancier, and people accustomed to casual entertaining were issuing formal invitations and using caterers and florists. Fine food and wine were once again political and correct. So many parties were black-tie that one retailer reported a surge in tuxedo purchases instead of rentals. The formality, the pomp and circumstance were sold as a kind of old-fashioned patriotism. ‘‘The Reagans were able to integrate style,’’ said Jim Rosebush, a former aide to Nancy Reagan, ‘‘with diplomacy, with policy and politics.They interpreted the presidency in a way that made Americans feel important and made Americans feel the presidency was important. Things have changed today. Everything has become casual—it wouldn’t work today—but at the time, because we needed to win the Cold War, it was very important that Americans felt they could stand tall.’’ Gradually, the love affair between the Reagans and Washington cooled. They were all style and no substance, social critics sniffed privately. Glamour was not an acceptable response to a growing deficit or the Iran-contra scandal. The furious behind-the-scenes battles and Nancy Reagan’s astrology obsessions were chronicled. After the 1988 election, People magazine crowed: ‘‘No fancy Nancy, unflappable Barbara Bush brings a simpler Yankee style, 10 lively grandchildren and the first man she ever kissed to the White House.’’ The glamour days were gone. — (LAT-WP)
