Rarely can an entire era be summed up in a single telling image, but this one comes close:
The hallmark of true vice is its secrecy; its downfall, the inevitability of exposure. Then, three of these were pillars of the community, and the fourth an unpredictable eccentric.
Today, we take for granted that one is a tiny megalomaniac, the second the victim of pitiful plastic surgery, and the third a domineering, status-obsessed (good-to-her-infirm-partner-in-crime, yes) shrew.
Virtue, on the other hand, shines through, and the last has only gone from strength to strength, refining and enhancing an existence that brings joy to millions. And who else would ever have had the balls to wear that to the White House?