WORKING FOR THE WHITE HOUSE
Barack Obama’s former staffer Alyssa Mastromonaco reflects on her dream job, meeting the Queen and making David Beckham laugh.
By the time US President Barack Obama left the Oval Office in January, half of his senior staff were female. One of the youngest was Alyssa Mastromonaco, a politicalscience graduate who had worked for former US presidential candidate John Kerry, before landing a dream job for then Senator Obama that same year. “When you see my life on paper, it’s not remotely obvious how I would end up, at age 32, working as the right-hand woman to the first African-american president,” writes Mastromonaco in her memoir Who Thought This Was a Good Idea? (Hachette Australia, $29.99). In her often stressful roles as assistant to the president and deputy chief of staff during Obama’s presidency, Mastromonaco was privy to the high-powered machinations of the world’s most famous office, and worked closely with both Obama and his wife, First Lady Michelle Obama. In this edited extract, 41-year-old Mastromonaco, now global communications strategy and talent president at A+E networks, describes a trip the White House administration made to the UK in 2011, and how she regrettably found herself inside Buckingham Palace in jeans and flats. The president was going to the UK to kick off the year-long Diamond Jubilee celebration of Queen Elizabeth Ii—the 60th anniversary of Her Majesty’s accession to the throne—and our trip had many different pieces: a dinner at Buckingham Palace; a dinner at Winfield House, the US ambassador to the Court of St James’s residence; and an address to Parliament, to name a few. We were sending an entire US delegation—caroline Kennedy (who later became the US ambassador to Japan) and her husband; Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson; Brian Roberts, the chairman and CEO of Comcast; and [US biographer] Doris Kearns Goodwin. We wanted a group of dynamic Americans the queen might enjoy meeting.
As the delegation started to trickle in, the cold I’d been suffering from at the time morphed into a full-body flu. Right before the dinner at Winfield House, I left the hotel to get a blowout [ blowdry] because (1) obviously, and (2) I had the flu and looked like it. POTUS [President of the United States] and FLOTUS [First Lady of the United States] arrived in London and the trip was under way.
When we arrived at Winfield House, everyone looked so rad. We always saw one another in the same boring pencil skirts and cardigans from J.crew, so the chance to don formal wear was fun when it came around.
Queen Elizabeth II was magical—wearing a fantastic, sparkly, beaded dress and her tiara—and friendly. (She said,
“Queen Elizabeth was magical and friendly”
“Hello.”) With POTUS and FLOTUS standing next to her, looking just incredible themselves, I absolutely could not hide my glee. POTUS was looking at me like, “Please don’t knock her down!” and I did not knock her down.
After that, [senior advisor] Valerie Jarrett ( VJ) introduced me to Colin Firth and his wife, Livia, a stunning Italian eco-fashion activist, and I knocked back another glass of champagne. The King’s Speech had come out pretty recently, and everyone was gushing to Firth about it. At some point Livia turned to me and asked, basically, “What’s your favourite movie?”
I assumed she meant Colin Firth movies. I launched into a dramatic re-enactment of my favourite scene from Love Actually, not only in front of the spouse of one of its stars but also in front of Nigella Lawson, Tom Hanks, and, most important, my co-workers, whom I would have to face in the morning. “We love Uncle Jamie! We hate Uncle Jamie!” I cried, in my best British accent. ( Which is not a good British accent at all.) Out of the corner of my eye I saw David Beckham laughing. He thought I was either funny or drunk; I later told everyone I was sure he wanted to do it with me. Sorry, Posh.
The next morning, I got a knock on the door from [special assistant and personal aide] Reggie Love. “Boss wants you on Marine One today.” In other words, POTUS was requesting that, instead of going ahead with the staff in vans to Stansted [airport], I head over to Buckingham Palace to say goodbye to the Queen with him and the first lady and then depart with them on Marine One, the helicopter that transports POTUS and FLOTUS to the airport.
This was a problem. When you travel with POTUS and you are leaving on Air Force One in the morning, you usually put your luggage outside your room the night before so it can be loaded onto the plane in time for departure. Seeing as I was just planning on riding in the staff vans to the airport in advance of POTUS and FLOTUS, who were scheduled to visit Buckingham Palace before meeting us all at the airport, and I still wasn’t feeling that great, I had left out a brown tweed blazer (thank God), a sweater and jeans for the next day. POTUS and FLOTUS didn’t really care if you wore jeans on the plane.
But Barack Obama—a truly sneaky dude. He knew I was dying to see Buckingham Palace, and he had succeeded in surprising me with the opportunity to do so. So there I stood, in my jeans and sweater and flats, looking at Reg with horror in my tired, slightly hungover, still a little flu-ish eyes, the weight of this amazing gesture pressing down on me. “I’m not dressed,” I said. “I can’t go to Buckingham Palace.”
He replied, simply, “You think I’m telling POTUS that?”
I grabbed my big leather bag (and source of my back problems) and got in the Suburban [the Chevrolet 4WD used for the Presidential motorcade] to roll over to Buckingham. We walked into the palace, and while POTUS and FLOTUS said goodbye to the Queen, I made a beeline for the drawing room, where there was a safe space behind the couch. I fidgeted, pretended to read a magazine, and prayed the staff would not notice what a rube I was. Finally, everyone started to make motions like we were getting ready to leave; I could barely take in the place because I was so freaked out. I cosied up to one of the president’s valets, who had some of his bags, and begged to carry one. No way. So I just moved very close to a suitcase and shuffled across the grand lawn and over to Marine One, which was waiting for us. I took a second to look back, and what a sight. Prince Philip and the Queen were saying goodbye, and the entire house staff was lined up on the lawn to wave to POTUS and FLOTUS.
When we were loaded up and lifting off, I breathed a sigh of relief. No-one had noticed my outfit! Then POTUS turned to me, looked down, and said, “Jeans?” “I’m sorry!” I replied. “I didn’t know!” I learned some important lessons that day. The first: When you are within 10 miles of the Queen, carry a damn pair of trousers on your person at all times. The second: Unless you’re going to the Iowa State Fair, always hedge on the side of more professional.
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“David Beckham thought I was either funny or drunk”