So I read Ivanka Trump is shutting her fashion line. What to make of this?

Jane, by email

Is “ha ha ha ha ha ha” an unprofessional answer? Because, if so, you are testing my professionalism, Jane.

After picking myself off the floor and mending the ribs I cracked from laughing so much, the next thing I would say is what an ingenious turn of events this is. Sales of the brand have been plummeting since the Trumps moved into the White House, and lo, the inevitable has come to pass. There has been much fretting of late from liberals about how to deal with the president, given that he thrives on insults and blossoms under attack. Well, going after the Trump pocketbook and humiliating his daughter, Ivanka, AKA Favourite Child, at the same time is a damn near brilliant double-hander. The only thing that could possibly have hit him more in the gut is if all of his wives, current and ex, ran off with Barack Obama. But we all know No Drama Obama would never betray his wife, unlike some presidents we could mention, and so we must content ourselves with the end of Ivanka’s fashion brand.

The next thing to marvel at is that her fashion brand still existed at all. President Jimmy Carter had to put his peanut farm into a blind trust before he became president; meanwhile, the Trumps continue to leverage their brand (whatever that’s worth) and various businesses around the world, milking the presidency for every penny it’s worth. According to the Wall Street Journal report, Ivanka has grown “frustrated by the restrictions she placed on the company, IT Collection LLC, to avoid possible conflicts of interest while serving in the White House”. Oh, frustrations about having to avoid conflicts of interest! Poor diddums!

What I find so fascinating about Ivanka, exemplified by this story, is how clueless she is. I don’t mean that she is dumb – I’m sure she is bright enough, in that way anyone would be whose parents can afford the most expensive education in the world. No, what I mean is how she expected things to go a certain way when they were clearly going to go another. She thought she could play it both ways when her father was elected, appealing to her cool new liberal friends and society people in DC, while at the same time enjoying whatever ego trip she gets from working for her father at the age of 36. (Also, DC voted 90% for Clinton, so maybe no surprise you’re not quite as popular there as you expected, Ivanka?) But it’s hard to claim you care so much for the welfare of women and babies when your father is literally putting the latter in cages, trying to make abortion inaccessible to most American women by defunding Planned Parenthood and choosing anti-choice zealots for the Supreme Court. Don’t worry, American women, if you need an abortion you can go to Ireland!

Similarly, she seemed to think that simply being the president’s daughter would ramp up her international popularity, even though (a) less than a quarter of the country voted for him and (b) he has never – in his entire life – been anything in the general public’s eyes but a widely reviled joke. Did she think being in the White House would magic all that away? It’s like how a certain TV presenter here decided it was worth throwing away whatever journalistic credibility he had by sucking up to President Trump because, he seemed to think, proximity to power was all that mattered, no matter how idiotically that power was wielded. What’s the point in getting an interview with the president if you have to coo about how great he is on Twitter to get him to talk to you? And what’s the point in being a Republican politician in power if it requires you to support a man who goes against everything America stands for? And what’s the point in being a loyal daughter to the president if that loyalty costs you your reputation?

It’s astounding how many people thought at the beginning of this presidency – and continue to think – that all that matters is enjoying President Trump’s proxy spotlight and power, and even more astounding that they thought that is all the general public cares about, too. Anyone can get a selfie with a celebrity these days – standing next to power is not in itself impressive. That noise you hear? That’s the screaming inside these people’s heads as they try to block out how they’re going down in history: not as princes and princesses to the king, but a clutch of Squealers from Animal Farm.