Wednesday, October 16, 2024

Vice President Kamala Harris








Vice President Kamala Harris on Her Race to the Finish By Nathan Heller Photography by Annie Leibovitz October 11, 2024 Image may contain Kamala Harris Adult Person Publication Blazer Clothing Coat Jacket Formal Wear and Suit COVER LOOK Vice President Kamala Harris, photographed at her official residence in Washington, DC, on October 7, 2024, wearing her own Gabriela Hearst suit and Tiffany earrings. Sittings Editor: Leslie Fremar. Photographed by Annie Leibovitz, Vogue, October 2024. If politics is a game best played in temperate weather, Kamala Harris’s arrival in Ripon, Wisconsin, on October 3 caught the luck of an unseasonably warm sun. It’s 71 degrees—by Wisconsin standards, summer—when Air Force Two touches down and Harris rides to Ripon College for a rally. As she nears, the twin downtown storefronts of the florist and the laptop-repair shop are playing Frank Sinatra ballads for passersby. Ripon, a flat, quiet city of fewer than 8,000 people, is a peculiar destination for the Democratic nominee for president: The Republican Party was founded here, in 1854. But for Harris, whose campaign seeks a stabilizing path against her opponent’s angry chaos, it’s a place, as fair as any, for the making of unlikely friends. In an hour, Liz Cheney, the former Wyoming congressperson, former chair of the Republican Conference, and daughter of a vice president—a woman who has never voted for a Democrat for president—will endorse Harris onstage. Before heading out to join her, the vice president will meet me in the basement of the student union. Two chairs have been set up, angled toward each other, with flags between them. I’m shown to one, then the other. I am fussed over by aides, who readjust the draping of the flags. The process authority of American power, the way it calmly drives on like a swimmer down a clear lane, has rarely been so palpable to me; in the space of a few minutes I am greeted by more friendly and laconic people—coming in to check something, nodding, and vanishing again—than I can count. Photographers file in and take their positions, training their lenses on the chairs. I feel I’m entering bilateral talks on behalf of a small, wayward nation.

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My readings

 Fashion Criticism An Anthology  Edited by Francesco Granata