Any random heiress can sunbathe in the Seychelles, ski in Aspen or, with the right Sherpa and thermal wear, ascend the Himalayas.

Only Ivanka has keepsakes from the Demilitarized Zone.

It must have been wild, finding herself next to an egomaniacal autocrat like that. It must have been something to meet Kim Jong-un, too.

With Daddy she swanned toward the Hermit Kingdom, testing the boundaries of Take Our Daughters to Work Day. I briefly wondered what value she was adding, because I foolishly prioritized the interests of America above the adventures of Ivanka. Optics be damned, she created a memory to last a lifetime. I trust that she and Jared, also gratuitously in attendance, will mention it in their holiday letter.

Oh, to be Ivanka! The clothes, the kids, the teeth, the entitlement. She goes everywhere because she belongs everywhere — that confidence is in her platinum-encrusted genes — and because there’s no corner of the world or cranny of existence that isn’t enhanced by her presence.