In a picture from 2016 that’s included within the guide, Laub’s mom is proven seated on the sofa in her lounge. Smiling serenely, she is ensconced in a maximalist panorama of accoutrements: crystal goblets, ornate silver serving platters, gilt image frames, velvety furnishings. (“I’ve all the time beloved photographing individuals of their properties, as a result of each single object is a signifier,” Laub advised me.) The topic herself, a well-kept lady in her early seventies, is elegantly slim and made up, and, like her mom earlier than her, is sporting fur. This illustration of wealth and luxury is pierced by the image’s clear punctum: a pink-and-white “Girls for Trump” placard, positioned on a bookcase. (Slightly below it, a V.I.P. go to a Trump-Pence occasion is dangling from a lanyard on a cupboard doorknob.) In one other picture, from 2019, Laub’s two daughters and her sister are seen on a deck overlooking a swimming pool and a big, well-manicured backyard. The picture’s heart, nevertheless, is dominated by the photographer’s pubescent nephew, who faces the digital camera, his head hid beneath a masks bearing the picture of Trump’s face, tooth bared in a well-known sneer. Just like the placard within the picture of Laub’s mom, the masks, a proxy for the President, feels misplaced on this in any other case healthful scene. However is Trump, in reality, a disruption, or is he a guardian of this model of the American dream?