If the National Rifle Association had published a political pinup calendar in 2007, Kirsten Gillibrand would have been Miss January. Seriously.

The Democrat had just been elected to Congress from a Republican-dominated exurban-rural district north of Albany after running on an expansive pro-gun platform. She quickly began churning out firearms-friendly bills, including a roll-back of restrictions on gun ownership in Washington, DC. The NRA ­responded with a big smile and an “A” rating, its highest, and Gillibrand beamed right back.

But in 2009, the wind shifted: Gillibrand was appointed to the US Senate seat Hillary Clinton had just vacated, and the new senator instantly flipped from permissive to prohibitionist on guns. The NRA dropped her rating to “F.” She swiftly crafted radical reversals on other controversial issues, as well.

No surprise here.

Most successful politicians, like most lizards, are masters of camouflage — adjusting their, ahem, principles to fit new opportunities, all the while hoping nobody’s paying attention.

But here’s where Gillibrand is different: She’s rubbing America’s nose in her hypocrisy, and doesn’t seem to care who notices.

On Sunday, she officially kicked off the unlikely presidential campaign she has been flirting with for some time, proceeding under a banner reading “Brave Wins” — even though she’s clearly anything but. Brave, that is.

Witness the gun flip-flop.

Witness her immigration reversal — from strict enforcement to hardline open borders advocate and sanctuary-city partisan.

And witness her conversion from a proud Blue-Dog Democrat, who backed balanced budgets and opposed deficits, to a free-spending progressive dedicated to drowning problems in dollars — even if they aren’t problems at all, just special-interest pleadings. Never mind, as the “Saturday Night Live” lady used to say. Gillibrand certainly is entitled to her presidential strategy, such as it is, but much less clear is the point of the exercise. She’s safely in a seat once graced by Daniel Patrick Moynihan. This alone makes her an apex overachiever. Now she has erected some — how to put this nicely? — formidable barriers between herself and her next act. Consider:

She has forged no allies in the Senate; indeed, many fellow Democrats deeply resent her hyperactive role in Al Franken’s effective expulsion from the Senate last year.

Hardly any elected New York Democrats have endorsed her candidacy, which one might think would give her pause, but apparently not.

She has $10 million in her campaign accounts — adequate for her New York needs but a pittance in a presidential campaign that she begins largely as an unknown with no demonstrated fundraising talents.

And this points squarely to the steepest hill of all: Kirsten Gillibrand stands at a humiliating 1 percent or lower in the major polls, not even enough to qualify for a spot in the Democratic primary debates.

Certainly steep hills can be overcome. Hannibal got over the Alps, proving that “Brave Wins,” right? But such outcomes are notable because they are so rare. They require clarity of purpose; an open, if not obvious, path to success; inspired leadership and committed followers.

Gillibrand brings none of these things to the table.

Instead, she offers the elastic principles that led to a smarmy double-cross of her original constituency, shameless pandering in her current position and, so far anyway, a perplexing inability to explain why she even wants to be president — or why anybody should support her.

“Vote for me because I deserve the job” is not likely to be enough.

This is the point in America’s endless presidential campaign where the mill wheels begin to turn, and the chaff begins to fall.

Gillibrand’s curious effort should be in the sweepings soon enough.

Bob McManus is a contributing editor of City Journal.