Jenna Bush is leaving to teach English in Latin America, and Barbara Bush has a job at New York’s Cooper-Hewitt Design Museum.
With the First Twins all grown up, DC will be a little less exciting. Nights at Georgetown’s Smith Point will lack the giddy anticipation of a Jenna or Barbara sighting at the bar.
The Bush daughters have been on the road to party-girl redemption for some time. Sure, Jenna still made the gossip pages after Henry Hager’s faux-proposal at Asia Nora, demonstrating her penchant for her father’s favorite S-word, but gone are the days of underage drinking citations and shots at Stetson’s.
Part of the turnabout is the effect of time. Barbara and Jenna turned 21, and suddenly half their exploits became legal.
The First Twins’ mature handling of the DC exercise instructor who unknowingly mocked their dad in front of them during a class is less titillating than Jenna’s sticking her tongue out at photographers on the campaign trail and Barbara’s bumping her head on the dance floor at a White House Christmas party.
This classy version of the Bush sisters, teaching underprivileged kids at a Mount Pleasant charter school and doing AIDS work in Africa, is a bit like Al Gore on the stump—earnest but unexciting.
Turquoise and Twinkle are over and out, and Washingtonians can have one last drink to that.
