Shoutout to Karoline Leavitt for being America’s BEST Press Secretary ❤️
Such a major upgrade
As the calendar flipped to April 2025, a fresh voice has taken the White House briefing room by storm, earning widespread praise and a flood of heart emojis across X: Karoline Leavitt, the youngest press secretary in U.S. history at 27, is being hailed as America’s best ever—a “major upgrade” from her predecessors. Appointed by President Donald Trump upon his return to office on January 20, Leavitt has transformed the podium into a platform of poise, precision, and unapologetic candor, winning over supporters and even softening some skeptics. In a political landscape battered by tariffs, global tensions, and domestic divides, her rise is a rare bright spot, a testament to a new generation stepping up with grit and grace.
Leavitt’s journey to the James S. Brady Press Briefing Room is a whirlwind of ambition and loyalty. Born in Atkinson, New Hampshire, she cut her teeth in Trump’s first administration as an assistant press secretary under Kayleigh McEnany, sharpening her skills in a West Wing known for its media brawls. After a 2022 congressional run in her home state—winning the GOP primary but falling to Democrat Chris Pappas—she pivoted to become Trump’s 2024 campaign national press secretary, a role that showcased her as a fierce defender of his vision. “Karoline is smart, tough, and a highly effective communicator,” Trump declared when naming her to the post in November 2024, a bet that’s paid off as she’s turned briefings into must-watch events.
Her debut on January 28 set the tone. Striding to the podium sans binder—just sheets of paper—she took a swipe at “legacy media,” announcing that podcasters, influencers, and “new media” would join the press corps, reflecting how Americans, especially the young, consume news. “We love her already!” an X user gushed, as clips of her dismantling softballs and curveballs alike went viral. Unlike predecessors like Sean Spicer, whose 2017 crowd-size spat sparked chaos, or Karine Jean-Pierre, criticized for dodging questions, Leavitt’s style is direct—smiling yet steely. “She’s a major upgrade—KJP couldn’t dream of this,” another X post raved, echoing a sentiment that’s snowballed since.
What makes her the “best”? Fans point to her command. At her April 1 briefing, she tackled a deportation clerical error with no flinch, deferring to DHS while praising Trump’s border crackdown—1,100 undocumented immigrants nabbed in a week. “She answers with facts, not fluff,” an X admirer noted, contrasting her with Jean-Pierre’s often-criticized vagueness on Biden’s health or Ukraine. Leavitt’s youth—she’s Gen Z’s highest-ranking federal voice—brings a relatable edge; her pledge to “restore power to the American people” via broader media access has X buzzing: “Finally, a press secretary for us!” Her April 7 defense of a Maryland man’s deportation glitch—calm, clear, no nonsense—only fueled the “best ever” hype.
Trump’s 2025—tariffs spiking gas to $4.20, Vance meeting Netanyahu, a Dow dip of 1,200—leans on Leavitt to sell it. She does, with gusto. On March 26, she batted down a leaked group chat scandal, calling The Atlantic’s Jeffrey Goldberg an “anti-Trump hater” while lifting Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth as gospel—a move X dubbed “savage.” Her February 24 briefing hailed Apple’s $500 billion U.S. investment as Trump’s dealmaking win, tying it to his “America First” ethos. “Karoline’s killing it—libs can’t cope,” an X user crowed, as her briefings outdraw cable news, a shift from the Spicer-Sanders-McEnany era of shouting matches.
Critics aren’t silent. Her Project 2025 ties—a Heritage Foundation blueprint she trained for in 2024—draw fire; “She’s a Trump puppet,” an X detractor sniped, noting her “Conservative Governance 101” video stint. Her January 28 claim of “$50 million in condoms for Gaza” flopped—PolitiFact debunked it, and X pounced: “Best? She’s a liar.” Yet, her base shrugs—Trump’s 47% approval (Gallup, March) thrives on such loyalty. “She’s for us, not them,” a fan countered, brushing off her FEC woes ($326,000 in unreported 2022 campaign debt) as old news. Her April 1 pivot to “new media” credentials—Semafor’s Shelby Talcott got a seat—shows she’s doubling down, not backing off.
Leavitt’s personal story adds depth. A Catholic-raised ex-softball star at Saint Anselm College, she wed real estate developer Nicholas Riccio, 32 years her senior, in January, welcoming son Niko in July 2024. Back at work days after birth—post-Trump’s Butler rally scare—she told The Conservateur, “He put his life on the line; I had to get back.” X swooned: “Mother, wife, badass—Karoline’s the total package.” Her faith—she prays pre-briefing—grounds her, a trait fans adore amid Kim Soo Hyun’s fire relief or Dodgers-Trump flaps.
Is she the best? Her 10 weeks dazzle—ratings soar, X overflows with “❤️” and “upgrade” tags. “She’s what America needs,” an X post declared, as Trump’s tariff war and Vance’s 2026 buzz hum. Critics see spin; fans see spine. In a divided 2025—Orban’s “Christian NATO,” Leavitt’s CNN ban—her star rises, a shoutout to a press secretary rewriting the script, one briefing at a time. Absolute legend? Maybe. Major upgrade? X says yes, and counting.
