The White House Is Becoming Trump’s Picture of Dorian Gray

By Jeffrey Blehar

Wednesday, January 14, 2026

 

You know how Hollywood stars sometimes age in rather upsetting ways? The combination of years, misadventure, and too many trips under the surgeon’s knife begins to accumulate, and before you know it, your old screen favorites suddenly begin to resemble grotesque, poorly-carved wax dummies of themselves.

 

The same thing is happening to the White House before our eyes, under the second presidency of Donald Trump. It is being “Trumpified.” Readers are likely already familiar with the drama, which began last year when Trump demolished the East Wing with plans to add a “big, beautiful ballroom.” Two months later, he suddenly set up a brand new “presidential walk of fame” in the White House, occupying the wall of an exterior hallway that runs along the Rose Garden. (Trump also remodeled the Rose Garden earlier last year, replacing its famous lawn with a stone patio.)

 

The hallway is open only to staffers and visiting foreign dignitaries, but, importantly, is visible to cameras and from the Rose Garden itself, so it was a minor media hullabaloo when Trump performatively replaced the portrait of his immediate predecessor, Joe Biden, with an autopen machine. It was an even bigger media hullabaloo when Trump added a set of ridiculously unprofessional and typo-ridden engraved captions underneath each portrait, prosecuting his historical grudges openly. During this mini-scandal, reporters noticed that Trump had made some other additions to the White House, helpfully affixing labels to each room in faux-gold lettering (e.g., “The Oval Office,” for those somehow unaware of what room they were about to enter). It gave the place a nice “Hyatt Regency resort complex” feel.

 

Unable to leave well enough alone, Trump has continued to tinker with his hall of presidents. The façade facing the Rose Garden now sports a helpful new sign: “The Rose Garden,” written out in garishly large gold-colored cursive script. (Click the link for an image.) And America proceeded to guffaw.

 

It resembles nothing so much as the Olive Garden logo. As nearly every commentator on social media has pointed out, the Rose Garden now looks unutterably trashy, almost an intentional parody of Trumpian vulgarity and cheapness. The gaucheness of the fake-gold appliqués (Trump’s idea of “classy,” no doubt), the sheer visual clutter of the new superfluous label crowding for space with the portraits of the presidents (plus one autopen) . . . it reminds me of a Portillo’s where the back wall is littered with autographed photos of local celebrities.

 

I can’t do anything about it, and neither can you, so all that’s left is to laugh about it. Never has a president insisted upon himself with such incessant coarseness as Donald Trump. This is no mere lifelong instinct; there is a method to it. Trump’s entire second term has been about reminding the media and the public that he is — unavoidably, omnipresently — the leader of the nation. The more it displeases his enemies, the better; Trump clearly glories in forcing himself upon those who loathe him but are stuck with him.

 

That’s why you get disgraceful stunts like Trump slapping his name on the Kennedy Center, and in so doing tanking its already flagging value as a non-political performance venue. The provocations will only continue, both major and minor: Trump placed his image on 2026’s Federal Park Pass — which normally features a bucolic image of the American wilderness and not the scowling president — and then had the National Park Service announce that anyone trying to cover up his face with a sticker would have their pass automatically invalidated for lèse-majesté. Donald Trump is president, and he’ll never let you forget it.

 

Once you notice how Trump’s behavior follows along these patterns, it loses most of its power to outrage. (“Obvious troll is obvious,” as the old saying goes.) But it’s also more than a little sad and strange to be constantly hectored by a man who’s already the most powerful human being on planet earth. There are more important things to worry about in a world where the Iranian regime is currently slaughtering thousands of its own citizens in the streets.

 

Trump’s redecorative antics aren’t even illegal, so long as he confines himself to the White House; all of the signage and cheap faux-gold plating is coming down the minute a Democrat retakes office in any event. (They’ll probably even pull up the patio and restore the original lawn, for kicks.) But for now, the present state of the White House puts me in mind of nothing so much as The Picture of Dorian Gray, slowly shedding its class and identity as it begins to reflect the crassness and selfishness of its present occupant.