Democrats Buy Jackie Dresses, Too
The unintended politicization of Tuckernuck and my cerulean rebuttal.
Bottle blonde (natural, I insist, though I understand the skepticism). A wardrobe built on classic silhouettes, tailored fits, and clean lines. Never without a bright lip — turns out my Mom was right all along. I live in the American South, where sweet tea is strong and small talk is an art form. I have been told — more than once, with great affection — that I am a lot. Effervescent, I prefer. The kind of woman who will befriend your grandmother at a dinner party and leave with her azalea gardening tips and a standing lunch date. On paper, on Instagram, perhaps even at first glance across a table at a luncheon, I read as a particular type of woman (hint: she watches Fox News and has a proclivity for cherry red).
But, dear reader, I assure you: I am as blue as cerulean.
I voted for Hillary, Joe, and Kamala. I’ve never missed an election. My grandparents — on both sides — have been campaigning for liberal candidates since the sixties. I met Barack Obama in 2004 in Oquawka, Illinois, before he was a household name, and in 2013 I stood in the January cold on the National Mall with my father to watch him be inaugurated for the second time. I have strong feelings about a great many things, and almost none of them would surprise you coming from a card-carrying Democrat from Atlanta, Georgia. So you can imagine — truly, imagine — the pearl-grasping that occurred when think-pieces began to circulate suggesting that dressing head-to-toe in Tuckernuck marks you as a harbinger of American conservatism.
P.S. I promise to always keep The Lauren Letter free as my little exercise of trying to make the world a bit more beautiful. If, in return, you could considering giving this post a “like” or share with a friend, it would just mean the world to me.
Here is what I need you to know about me and Tuckernuck.
I have been wearing it almost exclusively since 2020. I wore pieces from their house line when Carter proposed, and again in our engagement photos. I wore Tuckernuck as a bridesmaid in my brother’s wedding. On first days of new jobs. On vacations that became memories. The afternoon I met my nephew for the first time, I was in Tuckernuck.
I have converted friends and family with the fervor of a true believer. I dispense discount codes like it’s gospel. The annual sample sale is, without exaggeration, my favorite holiday of the year; my Christmas list has evolved into almost exclusively Tuckernuck gift cards, a development my family has accepted with great patience and occasional confusion.
Tuckernucking has become a fully fledged verb in my household. My dad lovingly calls my mom and me the Tuckernuckers when we get particularly deep into a shopping session. This is said with affection. Mostly.
When I first started sharing online as a tastemaker and received my first PR package from Tuckernuck, I knew that I had made it.
The politicization of Tuckernuck arrived over in the midst of the 2024 election season, when a flurry of articles crystallized what many in Washington had apparently decided: Tuckernuck was MAGA’s unofficial outfitter.
From the White House to Fox News, the brand had been worn by Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt, Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem, Second Lady Usha Vance, and a who’s who of Republican staffers from Capitol Hill and the Trump administration. The Daily Beast reported that its crisp blouses and structured dresses had come to dominate podiums in Trump’s White House and were being bought in bulk by Fox News’ wardrobe department. According to The Washington Post, the Jackie dress was the uniform of the 2024 Republican National Convention.
HuffPost went further, asking whether you might be wearing a MAGA-coded outfit without knowing it. Celebrity stylist Edith Chan weighed in: “Tuckernuck doesn’t promote MAGA ideology directly, but its aesthetic aligns closely with values often associated with modern conservatism — tradition, respectability, family life and understated wealth. In today’s polarized climate, fashion like this becomes read politically, whether the brand intends it or not.” One style commentator offered perhaps the most memorable take: “I love Tuckernuck and actually wear a lot of it — while also recognizing it’s definitely Republican-coded.”
And then, as if this press cycle weren't enough, The White Lotus Season 3 entered the chat. Last season’s beloved breakout character, Victoria Ratliff — Parker Posey's Southern, delusional, lorazepam-loving, thoroughly affluent matriarch — was a full-blown cultural moment. And costume designer Alex Bovaird confirmed that Posey was particularly inspired by Tuckernuck's "beachy, preppy" aesthetic in building Victoria's wardrobe. Victoria, who famously does not know she is in Thailand. Victoria, who calls it "Taiwan." Victoria, who agrees to visit a monastery only to sabotage her daughter's spiritual awakening.
With friends like these.
The founders, for their part, have been admirably composed throughout all of this.
When Washingtonian asked co-founder Jocelyn Gailliot directly about Tuckernuck’s reputation among Republican staffers, she laughed it off: “Everyone wants to make everything political these days. First of all, we’re very popular amongst both parties, and we have a lot of clients on both aisles. For us, it’s always been the mission of ‘Let’s inspire a fun, full life.’ That’s something that everyone can be excited about.”
Co-founder September Votta added that the brand had always resisted being bucketed: “From the beginning, we’ve always said that people have wanted to bucket us — as a New England brand or an East Coast brand — but we always wanted to be attainable and approachable for the whole country and not just a small subset of it.”
Like a sartorial Dolly Parton, Tuckernuck floats, beloved, above the political fray.
The whole situation calls to mind one of the most famous lines in the history of commercialism, particularly in the modern day landscape where consumers not only desire product but political ethos from their provisioners: Michael Jordan’s long-attributed refusal to endorse a Democratic Senate candidate in his home state of North Carolina, explained by the quiet logic that “Republicans buy sneakers, too.”
But here is where it gets particularly delicious: privately, two of the three founders are registered Democrats who have donated repeatedly to Democratic candidates, according to Federal Election Commission records. Democrats, it turns out, not only buy Jackie dresses, too — they are the ones who designed it.
Fashion is inherently political — that much is undeniable. The clothes we choose communicate something about who we are, or who we wish to be seen as, or what world we want to live in. But the politicization around Tuckernuck has always felt reductive to me, because when I look at what this brand actually is — not who it has been dressed on, but what it stands for in its bones — I see something that strikes me as deeply, emphatically progressive in the most positive, non-partisan connotation of the word.
Consider: Tuckernuck is female-founded, by three women who built a nine-figure brand from a Georgetown garage. Rather than watch talented women leave the workforce because it was too hard to leave their children behind, they built a culture where children were welcome — not tolerated, but expected. They offer a minimum of four months of maternity leave, and provide up to $20,000 per child for daycare for employees who work in their building, with an on-site childcare center so that parents and children can commute together and reunite at five o’clock.
The brand is committed to size inclusivity and quality fabrics — the kind of construction that lasts, that gets handed down, that isn’t disposable. It’s a lifestyle brand in the truest sense: travel, culture, design, even a book club. It champions other brands worth your dollars, functioning as an arbiter of taste in a crowded market. When I see Tuckernuck carries something, I know it has earned its place.
The clothes themselves are for your spontaneous, busy, effervescent life — easily packable, always a statement even in a classic silhouette, as comfortable building a capsule wardrobe as making a single spectacular entrance. From day to office to footwear to accessories to home to formalwear, the world Tuckernuck imagines is full and joyful and, yes, a little fizzy.
I cannot wait to make my pilgrimage to the Upper East Side storefront and the Georgetown mecca — especially the new flagship, a corner lot with floor-to-ceiling windows on either side, in the heart of D.C. where they always wanted to be. I will continue to fill my closet with Callahan dresses and refresh the new release page every morning like the woman of faith that I am.
And one thing I can say with absolute certainty: I cannot wait to wear Tuckernuck the next time I head to the polls. Regardless of who you’re voting for, I genuinely think you should, too.
Postscript
Here are my favorite Tuckernuck staples that are sure to garner bipartisan support!
As a DC working, Tuckernuck living, democrat this one was very much appreciated 💙
I knew you were a baddie. 💙💙💙