As the First Lady glided onto the stage at the Commander-in-Chief Ball, one of three inaugural celebrations she attended Monday evening, Melania Trump did more than delight her admirers. She silenced her critics – and they are, regrettably, many.

Melania, yet again, relied on her longtime stylist Herve Pierre, who on this occasion dressed her to stunning effect in a custom strapless white silk crepe gown with thick bands of black silk gazar trim.

The black and white made for a striking combination. Pierre said it was Melania's choice and demonstrated her being 'true to her own style and vision'.

Unlike stepdaughter Ivanka Trump's flowery overreach – settling upon an exact copy of Audrey Hepburn's 1954 Givenchy gown from the film Sabrina – Melania's choice was a subtle homage to mid-20th century fashion.

Melania, too, echoed Hepburn, however, in a more iconic cinematic role.

Pierre, an admirer of British photographer and costume designer Cecil Beaton, surely must have recognized the sartorial possibilities that Hepburn's appearance in 'My Fair Lady' offered. That film tells of an ingenue who becomes a star while wearing white and black couture (an outfit famously designed by Beaton).

Melania's Golden Age of Hollywood-look was rounded out perfectly with a borrowed 1955 diamond flower brooch by American jewelry legend Harry Winston and worn on a black ribbon choker.

The jewelry's styling, Pierre said, was also reflected by the gown: a ribbon encircling flowers. (Melania, one assumes, was the bouquet).

More to the point, the First Lady's sense of legacy was also embodied by the famed jeweler – who was immortalized by Marilyn Monroe when she sang in the song Diamonds are a Girls Best Friend, 'Talk to me, Harry Winston, tell me all about it.'

Winston famously donated the 'Hope Diamond' – a 45-carat blue dazzler – to the Smithsonian Institution in Washington DC in 1958. His gift helped the museum build its National Gem collection, but Winston dreamed even bigger. His ultimately unrealized goal was to create a permanent collection of gems to be worn by successive first ladies, 'American Queens'.

Winston's third and final attempt to establish this new tradition was rejected by government officials in 1982. They deemed the concept 'inconsistent with our democratic traditions' and, they believed, Americans would be offended by something suggestive of royal crown jewels.

In this way, Melania and Pierre's tribute to Winston speaks volumes.

Melania sees herself as a legacy builder – with or without the help of the fashion world.

The role of couturier-in-chief to the first lady has long been a prized position and, in times gone by, American designers would have been lining up around the block to design an inaugural gown.

Not so with Melania.

Almost a decade into life as a presidential consort, she remains a shunned specimen by the American fashion elites.

In 2017, the legendary Ralph Lauren designed Melania's powder blue dress worn at her husband's first inauguration. No such help was forthcoming this time round.

Melania had to accept that Lauren, who only days earlier became the first fashion designer ever awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, this time opted to dress outgoing First Lady Jill Biden in a purple monochromatic ensemble.

Frankly, it's startling treatment of a woman who – despite a physique that is a haute-couture dream come true – is now forced to shop off the rack. Indeed, by Peirre's admission, Melania's money has even been turned away from Madison Avenue shops that refuse to be associated with the Trump brand.

It is also striking that Melania does not appear to have the support of Vogue impresario and Democratic darling Anna Wintour. Melania, however, seems impervious to such insular snobbery.

Rather, she is charting her own course in a way that feels remarkably similar to another first lady with whom she most empathizes and admires – and who also reveled in the subtle art of the sartorial rebuke to her detractors.

Like Jackie Kennedy, Melania has found herself barred from the showrooms of the international haute couture. Jackie's ban was ordered by her husband's political operatives, who preferred she wear American labels over European competitors, while Melania's exclusion is the result of a near-universal disapproval of her husband.

In Jackie's case, she came to rely on stylist Oleg Cassini. Melania has Herve Pierre. Both men were trained as couturiers and imbued with a sense of style and history. Their visions – I believe – are transformative.

Pierre's first presidential creation for Melania in 2017 echoed Cassini's for Jackie in 1961: a sleeveless pillar dress in white. 

Eventually, Pierre's Monday night design will end up in the collection of the Smithsonian alongside those two iconic gowns. Winston would be proud.