Kathie Lee Gifford became a late-night punchline two years earlier in 1996 when it was revealed that her clothing line for Wal-Mart was being made by child laborers in Honduras.
She denied any involvement and used the scandal as a platform to speak against illegal labor practices.
Politicians applauded her efforts, and since they were the only ones not calling her ‘The Sweatshop Queen,’ she visited Washington often.
I, of course, was not invited to lunch. However, I was sent to bring him a package. The Congressman was entertaining Kathie Lee in The Members’ Dining Room, and this was my one chance to set foot through the doors.
The first thing I noticed was that The Congressman’s wife was sitting with them. She was probably a fan. Most older people are. I remember my grandparents going to a Regis and Kathie Lee show.
The talk show hosts sang and bantered or something. There were definitely costume changes. My grandparents paid money for this.
The second thing I noticed was how big Kathie Lee Gifford’s head was. It was cartoonish, and she looked like a bobblehead doll. She was wearing a bright orange jacket with lipstick and nails to match. Her skin was so tight and flawless and shiny, she could have been a middle-aged porcelain doll. No part of this woman screamed natural beauty.
She was holding court, and her lunch companions were hanging on her every word. “Sweatshop labor… blah blah blah… Frank was set up…blah blah blah.”
The Congressman took the package from me, never turning his attention from Kathie Lee. An introduction would have been nice. But alas, Kathie Lee Gifford remains a second degree of separation.
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