by During the Trump presidency, Amalija Knavs, mother of first lady Melania Trump, was a mysterious figure. Mrs. Knavs, who died earlier this week, rarely made public comments or gave interviews. Flashy and perfectly coiffed, Ms. Knavs was a recurring but almost completely silent presence during the Trump presidency, as was her daughter.
Mrs. Knavs and her husband Victor often appeared in the background of photographs of the first family, accompanying them on trips to places like Camp David or Mar-a-Lago and attending special events. And there’s something surprising, even strange, about the photos containing both the Trumps and the Knavs: The two couples look like mirror images of each other. Trump and Knavs, just two years apart in age, have similar physiques and heights, including hairstyles.
As for women, Mrs. Trump appears to have inherited Mrs. Knavs’s high cheekbones, slightly square jaw, wide-set almond eyes, dark hair and photogenic smile. But that’s just genetics. More surprising is the similarity of her styles. As numerous photographs demonstrate, the two women often dressed alike: in tight or belted dresses, solid-color pantsuits, stilettos, and sunglasses. The look is sophisticated and elegant, although also somewhat restrictive and autonomous.
But while a textile worker may know a lot about design and style, the fact that her fashion experience was partially gained through factory work was virtually written out of Ms. Knavs’ narrative during her life. It’s a shame, as many Americans would have loved to know her personal story, especially considering how much it resembles a classic American rags-to-riches story.
As a present but absent character, Mrs. Knavs occupied a curious media role for any presidential family member, but especially for a mother. America tends to wrap its mothers, especially older ones, in a cloak of virtue and altruism, and it’s rarely a luxurious, tight-fitting outfit. And mothers of presidents and their spouses enjoy particularly tender (if somewhat gender-stereotypical) treatment, often praised for the moral lessons they are presumed to have imparted to their children.
President Joe Biden often praises the life lessons he learned from his mother, Jean Finnegan Biden (who died in 2010): ““My mom taught her children that a sense of honor defines you.” he said in a 2008 speech. And Michelle Obama’s mother, Marian Shields Robinson (who lived in the White House for several years helping raise her granddaughters), was affectionately called “grandmother in chief”by the media and appears in many stories about her shopping trips to everyday places like CVS and Filene’s Basement, her humble beginnings on Chicago’s South Side, and the values she instilled in her children.
We have heard very little of that kind of comment about Amalija Knavs. And yet, it seems that she played an important role in the life of the first family and she was especially devoted to her grandson, Barron. What explains the disjunction between the remote figure in the photos and the loving grandmother who once harvested onions? Was it simply the Trump family’s attempt at privacy? Or was it too difficult for the media to understand a grandmother who seemed to prefer Manolos to furry slippers? And then there’s the added complexity of Trump’s family tree: The Knavs are not related to Trump’s three oldest and most famous children, which may have somewhat reduced their need to fit into typical “grandparent” expressions.
Now, with her passing, we are learning more about Ms. Knavs and can connect the dots of her difficult beginnings in a former Soviet bloc country with her recent life in Palm Beach. Recognizing Ms. Knavs’ origins during her lifetime could have gone a long way toward softening Mrs. Trump’s image during her time as first lady. Instead, Mrs. Knavs presented herself to us as a near-clone of her daughter, a retinal image of Mrs. Trump’s own inscrutable glamor.
