“親愛(ài)的記者，能不能別在節(jié)目里穿沙灘服？”

The envelope was innocuous enough, addressed to me at the “NY Times” in New York, though some soul in the mail department had obviously opened it, marked it “personal” and forwarded it to our Washington office.

這個(gè)信封看上去足夠安全無(wú)害，它被寄到紐約的《紐約時(shí)報(bào)》，是寫給我的，郵件部的某些人顯然已經(jīng)拆開(kāi)看過(guò)，將其標(biāo)記為“私人信件”，并且轉(zhuǎn)發(fā)到我們的華盛頓辦公室。

It was May 3 — five months ago. I was strangely happy to receive the letter, since most hate mail comes via email and Twitter, and handwritten (or hand-typed) letters — at least the ones that aren’t from people in correctional facilities — usually say nice things.

我收到信是在5月3日，也就是五個(gè)月之前。能收到這封信，我還莫名地有點(diǎn)開(kāi)心。因?yàn)榇蠖鄶?shù)仇恨郵件都是通過(guò)電子郵件和Twitter發(fā)送的，會(huì)寄來(lái)手寫或打字信件的人(至少是那些懲教機(jī)構(gòu)之外的人)通常都會(huì)說(shuō)點(diǎn)讓人開(kāi)心的話。

Wrong. “Dear Helene: You have the worst wardrobe of all the newscasters, male or female, on all of the networks and cable channels. Could you PLEASE get some help and start wearing jackets to cover up your fat arms? Could you not wear beach wear on Sunday a.m. talk shows? What are you thinking? Get a consultant to help you, please!!”

我想錯(cuò)了。“親愛(ài)的海倫妮：不論男女、不論是有線臺(tái)還是無(wú)線臺(tái)，在所有新聞播報(bào)員里，你的衣著打扮是最糟糕的。我求你了，能找人幫幫你嗎?能不能穿上外套，遮一下你的大肥胳膊?能不能別在星期日上午的節(jié)目里穿沙灘服?你到底是怎么想的?找個(gè)顧問(wèn)來(lái)幫你吧，求你了!!”

It was signed: “A viewer who is driven insane by your attire.”

署名是：“一個(gè)被你的衣著逼瘋的觀眾。”

What the heck? Okay, so I am not Tyra Banks, but I have always considered myself a fashionista by the low standards of the print journalism profession. That was one of the reasons I went the newspaper route instead of TV. I had taken a TV course in college and realized quickly that the time I was spending working to modulate my voice, put on lipstick and pour myself into shift dresses was time away from actual reporting. I quickly scurried back to print, where I — alongside my kinky locks, dangly earrings and cargo pants paired with Prada-outlet-purchased heels — was not only accepted but viewed as fashionable.

有沒(méi)有搞錯(cuò)?的確，我不是蒂拉·班克斯(Tyra Banks)，但我一直認(rèn)為，以紙媒行業(yè)的低標(biāo)準(zhǔn)來(lái)衡量，我是非常時(shí)髦的人。這也是我進(jìn)報(bào)社而非電視臺(tái)工作的原因之一。我在大學(xué)里修過(guò)電視方面的課程，但很快就意識(shí)到，當(dāng)我忙著調(diào)整聲音、涂口紅、把自己塞進(jìn)套裙的時(shí)候，也是遠(yuǎn)離真正的報(bào)道的時(shí)候。我趕忙回到紙媒領(lǐng)域，在這里，我——還有我的糾結(jié)卷發(fā)、吊墜耳環(huán)，以及工裝褲搭配購(gòu)自普拉達(dá)(Prada)工廠店的高跟鞋——不僅被接納，還被視為時(shí)尚。

Except now, as more print newspaper reporters are showing up on TV talking about stories, new avenues of criticism are opening up. It’s not just emails complaining that I spelled “sergeant” wrong or called a Marine “soldier.” (I cover the Pentagon so there’s a lot of that in my bloopers file.)

不過(guò)不是現(xiàn)在。隨著更多紙媒記者在電視上亮相談?wù)撔侣劰适拢u(píng)的通道正在開(kāi)啟。人們不只發(fā)電子郵件抱怨我拼錯(cuò)了“sergeant”(中士)這個(gè)詞，或者把一名Marine(海軍陸戰(zhàn)隊(duì)員)稱為“soldier”(陸軍士兵)。(我報(bào)道的是國(guó)防部的新聞，因此出了很多這樣的洋相。)

These days, my mail includes telephone messages wondering why I wore a white blouse to talk about Chuck Hagel getting fired as defense secretary on “Morning Joe,” emails wondering whether I’m wearing the same necklace as the late Gwen Ifill on “Meet the Press” and Facebook messages from family friends purporting to be proud I’m on TV while also offering up commentary that I shouldn’t wear my favorite black leather jacket when talking about Iran’s nuclear program.

近來(lái)我收到的訊息包括：疑惑于我在《早安，喬》(Morning Joe)中談?wù)搰?guó)防部長(zhǎng)查克·哈格爾(Chuck Hagel)遭解職時(shí)，為何穿一件白色襯衫的電話短信;疑惑于我在《會(huì)見(jiàn)媒體》(Meet the Press)中戴的項(xiàng)鏈，與已故的格溫·艾菲爾(Gwen Ifill)戴過(guò)的是不是同一條的電子郵件;還有親友通過(guò)Facebook發(fā)來(lái)消息，一邊聲稱因?yàn)槲疑狭穗娨暥械阶院溃贿呍u(píng)價(jià)說(shuō)，談?wù)撘晾屎擞?jì)劃的時(shí)候，我不該穿自己最愛(ài)的黑色皮夾克。

But the beachwear and fat arms hand-typed letter stood out. I googled the return address and found a satellite street image of an ugly red pickup truck parked in a nondescript yard, which told me, well, nothing actually.

但關(guān)于沙灘裝和肥胳膊的打字信件脫穎而出。我在谷歌搜索引擎中輸入回郵地址，搜到了一張街景衛(wèi)星圖：一輛丑陋的紅色皮卡停在一個(gè)不起眼的院子里——我從中其實(shí)沒(méi)有得到任何線索。

I love my beachwear — these cute completely insubstantial crocheted cover-ups that come to the elbows. I have eight of them in different colors, all purchased on Folegandros, this island in Greece that I go to every summer, for $15 each. The whole reason I buy them is to cover up my fat arms on TV. Apparently I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t.

我喜歡我的沙灘裝，喜歡這些可愛(ài)的一直遮到肘部的輕薄鉤編遮蓋物。我有八件不同顏色的沙灘裝，全都是在我每年夏天都要造訪的希臘佛雷甘多斯島(Folegandros)買的，每件15美元。我買下它們只有一個(gè)理由：上電視的時(shí)候用以遮住我的肥胳膊。顯然，無(wú)論遮或不遮，我都要挨批。

How had Mr. or Mrs. Red Pickup Truck deduced that? After parading the letter around the office in a futile search for reassurance from my guffawing colleagues — do men get such missives? — I took to social media where my Facebook friends were bound to do a better job of buoying me up.

紅皮卡先生或太太是怎么推測(cè)的呢?我讓辦公室里的人傳閱了這封信，徒勞地想要從哄堂大笑的同事那里尋求安慰——男士會(huì)收到這樣的信嗎?——隨后轉(zhuǎn)向了社交媒體，我的Facebook好友肯定更善于鼓勵(lì)我。

Over the past months, looking for people (other than myself for eating too many bowls of Jollof rice) to blame for the letter, I’ve settled on the city of Washington D.C., where I live and work.

過(guò)去幾個(gè)月里，我一直試圖把這封信歸咎于什么人(除去吃了太多碗雜菜飯的我自己)，最后決定把矛頭指向華盛頓特區(qū)，也就是我生活和工作的地方。

The city is too conservative for my haphazard style. Go to Capitol Hill and it’s a sea of Ann Taylor low-heeled pumps and Talbot’s suits.

這座城市太過(guò)保守，無(wú)法包容我的隨意風(fēng)格。去國(guó)會(huì)山轉(zhuǎn)一圈兒，滿眼都是安·泰勒(Ann Taylor)低跟淺口鞋和塔爾博特(Talbot)西裝。

In recent years, Washington has played host to two First Ladies — Michelle Obama and now Melania Trump — who have pushed the envelope of what women wear here. But remember the stir when Mrs. Obama bared her arms in her first official photo as First Lady? Or the recent social media storm when Mrs. Trump wore stilettos to a hurricane?

近年來(lái)，華盛頓先后迎來(lái)過(guò)兩位第一夫人——米歇爾·奧巴馬(Michelle Obama)，還有現(xiàn)在的梅拉尼婭·特朗普(Melania Trump)——她們挑戰(zhàn)了這里的女士穿著方面的極限。不過(guò)，還記得米歇爾·奧巴馬在其作為第一夫人拍的第一張官方照片中裸露雙臂所引發(fā)的喧囂嗎?還記得梅拉尼婭·特朗普不久前腳踩高跟鞋前往颶風(fēng)災(zāi)區(qū)勘災(zāi)所引發(fā)的社交媒體風(fēng)暴嗎?

Clearly, I’ve decided, Washington can’t handle too much fashion forwardness. A couple of years ago, I tried on a pair of gorgeous deep red laced-up ankle boots in Paris, and the guy at the cash register stopped me as I was handing him my credit card.

我認(rèn)定，華盛頓顯然無(wú)法應(yīng)對(duì)太過(guò)大膽的時(shí)尚。幾年前，我在巴黎試穿了一雙華麗的深紅色系帶短靴，收銀機(jī)后邊的那個(gè)人在我遞上信用卡的時(shí)候阻止了我。

“You live in Washington? You will wear these there?” he said, causing me to pause.

“你住在華盛頓?你要在那兒穿這雙靴子?”他說(shuō)。這話令我猶豫不定。

I sighed. “Okay, give me the black pair.” I feel bitter about it every time I put on those black boots.

我嘆了一口氣。“好吧，給我黑色的那雙。”每次穿上那雙黑靴子，我都感覺(jué)到一種怨恨。

A few years ago, a friend who is a CNN correspondent gave me a pair of sedate post earrings for Christmas. I had just told her about some blog post that had me in high dudgeon, in which evil bloggers had critiqued the earrings I wore one night on the PBS show “Washington Week.” “There were three tiers to those earrings,” they snarked. “Exactly who costumed Helene? And if this passes for professional dress at The Times these days, color us shocked.”

幾年前的圣誕節(jié)，在CNN做記者的一個(gè)朋友送給我一對(duì)肅穆的耳環(huán)。那之前我剛跟她提過(guò)一些讓我大為光火的博客帖子，邪惡的博客作者在帖子里批評(píng)了我有天晚上參加PBS的節(jié)目《華盛頓周》(Washington Week)時(shí)戴的耳環(huán)。“那對(duì)耳環(huán)有三層，”他們說(shuō)。“到底是誰(shuí)把海倫妮(Helene)打扮成這樣的?如果時(shí)報(bào)的人近來(lái)把這視為職業(yè)裝扮，真夠讓我們吃驚的。”

My friend and I laughed about it, although I was secretly mad, and she sent me a pair of earrings that didn’t dangle to wear next time I went on TV. I promised her I would wear them.

我和朋友拿這事取笑了一番，不過(guò)我私下里頗為抓狂，隨后她送給我一對(duì)沒(méi)有長(zhǎng)長(zhǎng)的墜子的耳環(huán)，讓我下一次上電視時(shí)戴。我向她保證我會(huì)戴。

But of course I didn’t.

但我當(dāng)然沒(méi)戴。