It’s December and real Chicagoans are making ready for the onset of a Lake Michigan winter and for the arctic wind – the storied Hawk – that will howl across town for the foreseeable future.

Right on time, those Chicagoans who have made their way to Washington with President Barack Obama should be feeling a chill.

The first one who needs to seek shelter and a warm coat is White House social secretary Desiree Rogers.

Born in New Orleans, Rogers became a fixture in Chicago’s business community, political culture, and party-going circuit, in part as protege of Obama best friend and current White House senior advisor Valerie Jarrett. Until last week, the Washington press corps seemed to agree that not only was Ms. Rogers cuter than a speckled pup in a little red wagon, she was playing a serious game as well.

This from an adoring profile in the April 30, 2009 Wall Street Journal:

With her direct access to the first couple and unparalled connections to White House staff, as well as DC and Chicago power brokers, Rogers is considered by many to be the key to Brand Obama. She stands at the center of the careful marketing of the first family and administration-wide effort to make the White House appear a hip and accessible abode.

She may have taken that assignment a bit too seriously. On Wednesday, New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd wrote about the gate-crashing Virginia grifters who waltzed into a White House state dinner last month. But Dowd soon turned her attention to Ms. Rogers, who is clearly—and suddenly—viewed as having gotten too big for her designer britches. (According to Dowd, Rogers had been “cruising for a bruising” ever since the Journal article appeared.)

That same day, The Washington Post’s Style section let its readers know that while the Secret Service may have been a trifle inattentive with Presidential security, Ms. Rogers was guilty of the high crime of preening and drawing attention to herself.

Until last Wednesday, the Post had been giddy over the stylish Harvard-educated executive-socialite, the first African-American to assume the social secretary’s role.
Now, at least two sections of the paper keep wondering why Rogers wasn’t staking out the Southeast Gate in the rain on the night in question, wearing cargo pants and running shoes.

And so begins the ceremonial shellacking of the interlopers, driven, as ever, by declining job-approval numbers for the president. Any president.

The history of Washington insiders making hash of interlopers stretches back—at least—to the Carter years and top Georgian aides Jody Powell and Hamilton Jordan. It’s a Washington ritual, like figuring out where the big-time lobbyists eat lunch and who is sitting in the owner’s box at Washington Redskins games.

One of the best ways to move forward with the regional shellacking is the blind quote (Washington Post, 12/2):

“All this talk about Desirée being lifetime friends with the Obamas is bunk. She is there because of Valerie,’ says someone who has known Rogers for years but didn’t want to be identified so as not to upset her.

The working principle is one best understood by college football coaches who must deal with cranky alumni: We’re with you, win or tie.

In March, there was this full gush, complete with the requisite slideshow, from the Huffington Post: “She’s only been in Washington a little over two months but Chicago transplant Desiree Rogers has already been crowned the District’s best-dressed woman by Huffington Post readers.”

This week, the Huffingtons had moved on to sterner stuff, with a Dec. 2 article headlined, “The Twilight Saga: Does Desiree Rogers Have a Future?”

Declining poll numbers are chum in the water for presidential aides and advisors, and it’s hard to see how even a well-articulated escalation of the war in Afghanistan is going to help Obama’s numbers.

Which means what? Time to assign a little blame, or maybe a lot. Who’s next?

For the moment Rahm Emanauel retains his tough-guy status despite compelling evidence that he hasn’t scared anyone but a few reporters since he became Obama’s chief of staff.

Steve Daley is a former reporter and columnist for the Chicago Tribune.