Lipstick on Lies—and Sometimes on Word Salad
Karoline Leavitt has turned spinning Trump’s falsehoods into a daily ritual, while comedians and reporters try to keep a grip on reality.
There’s that line Sarah Palin used to toss around about putting lipstick on a pig. She meant it as an insult to her opponents, but honestly, it’s the perfect description of what Karoline Leavitt has been doing every day. Since she first stepped up as Trump’s most loyal campaign spokesperson back in 2024—and then officially took over the White House Press Secretary job when he returned to office in January 2025—she’s basically made it her mission to varnish, deny, or spin every wild claim and half-baked boast Trump spits out.
You could see it from the start. In the spring of 2024, at that infamous CNN Town Hall, Trump insisted he could end the war in Ukraine “in 24 hours.” He didn’t just say it once. He said it over and over, in rallies and interviews, like it was a magic trick. The very next day, Leavitt was already explaining to reporters that he didn’t mean “literally 24 hours”—just that he was uniquely gifted as a negotiator. When video came out showing him saying the exact phrase at least four more times, she claimed he was “underscoring urgency.” Sure. Because nothing says urgency like making a promise you can’t possibly keep.
And it kept going. In June 2024, Trump told Newsmax, “Everyone knows I won every swing state by a lot,” rattling off Pennsylvania, Michigan, Georgia—just casually repeating the same lie about the 2020 election that he has never honestly admitted losing. This was before he took office again, and Leavitt was in full campaign spin mode. She insisted he was just referring to “massive voter enthusiasm,” not the actual certified results. When pressed, she blamed the “fake news” for taking him literally. As if reporters are supposed to do anything else.
After Inauguration Day 2025, she moved straight into the White House briefing room and didn’t miss a beat. In January, Trump announced a sweeping freeze on federal funding, promising it would “protect seniors, protect the disabled, protect everyone.” But when the documents came out showing it was going to gut school meals, veteran housing, and Medicaid reimbursements, Leavitt claimed none of that counted as “essential services.” I mean, it looked pretty essential to the people who rely on those programs.
One of her most jaw-dropping performances happened after Trump went on Fox News in April 2025 and declared, straight-faced, “Nobody died on January 6,” calling it “a beautiful, peaceful day.” The press corps just stared. Everyone knew people died that day. The next morning, Leavitt was out there telling everyone that he was “referring narrowly to no deaths caused by peaceful protesters.” Like splitting hairs could somehow erase the footage we all watched with our own eyes.
Then there were the moments that were just flat-out bizarre. At a rally in Pennsylvania in March, Trump told the crowd, “The water is wet from the standpoint of water—some people don’t know that.” And you knew it was only a matter of time before Leavitt showed up to declare that was “a self-evident truth the media ignores.” Honestly, you can’t make this stuff up. Except apparently you can, and they do, every week.
It wasn’t just stuff he said after moving back into the White House. Back in 2024, Trump went on Fox News again and bragged about “terminating Obamacare” without any replacement. “We don’t need to replace it with anything,” he said, plain as day. The next morning, Leavitt was out there telling reporters he meant “replacing it with better options.” Reporters who played the tape were accused of “dishonesty,” as though we all imagined hearing it.
And let’s not forget the disinfectant nonsense. During the 2024 campaign, Trump actually brought it up again, claiming he’d “suggested brilliant new treatments” that were “unfairly mocked.” Asked whether he really meant people should inject bleach, Leavitt insisted he was just “brainstorming hypothetical ideas.” Hypothetical, sure. So hypothetical that poison control hotlines were flooded for weeks.
It’s also become a predictable routine: whenever a professional reporter dares to ask a serious, well-researched question, Trump or Leavitt will lock eyes on them, lean forward, and scold them for being “very nasty” or “a disgrace.” You almost have to admire the consistency of it. If you’re in that briefing room long enough, you know exactly what happens when you try to hold them accountable. Some journalists who finally break down and admit publicly that all the lying and distortions are mind-boggling end up out of a job, quietly let go by their corporate-owned outlets worried Trump will take revenge. Ask any reporter who’s covered him honestly for years—they’ll tell you it’s exhausting, and it’s risky.
Luckily, someone is keeping track—and doing it with humor. Suzanne Lambert has built a huge following on TikTok by roasting Trump’s contradictions and giving MAGA women tongue-in-cheek makeup tutorials to “avoid the Republican foundation crisis.” And Lisandra Vazquez is an absolute genius. Her impersonations of Leavitt—complete with that breathy voice, the wide-eyed denials, the frantic spin—are so popular they rack up millions of views and thousands of comments from reporters, staffers, and regular folks who say her videos are the only reason they can sit through the briefings without cracking up. While there’s no official confirmation, it sure looks like Leavitt sometimes tweaks her hair or delivery right after a new parody goes viral.
At some point, you have to wonder whether Leavitt believes any of this. Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t. But honestly, that’s not even the question anymore. Her job isn’t to inform or persuade. It’s to be the high priestess of a movement that doesn’t really care whether any of it is true. As long as the crowd cheers and Trump can call himself a “very stable genius,” that’s mission accomplished.
The real question is how many Americans have come to believe it too—and how much harder it’s getting to agree on anything as basic as what’s real.