From a Robin Givhan review in the Washington Post of Judith Miller’s sentencing-day attire:
Miller looked like she was dashing into the courthouse on her way to an interview. … She was wearing the sort of practical, comfortable and just-stylish-enough clothes that can be worn in any situation, never looking quite right but never looking too terribly wrong either. With her sensible pageboy and its trim bangs, she has the look of an English lecturer at Barnard. Her quilted jacket speaks of Barbour and the Upper East Side. And the black reads like a nod to glamour and chic and the thing that proclaims: I’m a New Yorker and not some well-to-do lady from Chicago. Her style shouts smart, organized and efficient. But mostly, it is flexible. She wore reporter clothes — almost a suit, but not really.
Is it just us, or is this offensive in its entirety?
Somehow, we doubt that you would have seen that piece in the Washington Post had it been one of its own reporters who had been hauled before a judge for sentencing.
For that matter, had it been Matt Cooper of Time hustled off to an Arlington, Va., jail instead of Judith Miller, we have this sneaking hunch that you wouldn’t have read something like this in the Post:
The portly Cooper wore a lightweight grey suit, white shirt and standard-issue necktie, the sort of practical, comfortable and just-stylish-enough clothes that can be worn in any situation, never looking quite right but never looking too terribly wrong either. Sporting a five o’clock shadow and a thin sheen of perspiration on his bald pate, he had the look of a Yonkers bookie. His style shouted nondescript, nearly anonymous — a just-folks kind of guy trying to put food on the table and stay out of the spotlight.
Unless, perhaps, the Post had had the poor taste to put Robin Givhan on the story.