A Halloween family photo posted by White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt has prompted scrutiny over apparent image editing and reignited debate around the 32-year age gap between the 28-year-old press aide and her husband, 60-year-old New Hampshire real-estate developer Nicholas Riccio. The image, shared on Leavitt’s Instagram account and taken during the White House’s trick-or-treat event, shows Leavitt smiling alongside Riccio and their one-year-old son outside the executive mansion. Within hours, users began leaving comments alleging that Riccio’s face appeared smoothed or altered compared with the rest of the picture, a claim that quickly spread across social platforms and into political media coverage. “Old man hands blow your cover up Karoline. Your husband’s face does not match his hands,” one commenter wrote on Instagram, while another said, “The guy on the left seems to have only his face photoshopped,” reflecting a common refrain beneath the post.
The Independent reviewed wire photographs taken the same day on White House grounds and noted that Riccio’s appearance in those images looked substantially similar to Leavitt’s Instagram picture, aside from the greater skin detail typical of professional wire photos. The outlet said it was not immediately apparent that Photoshop or a face-altering application had been used, while acknowledging that the Instagram image appeared edited for lighting and colour. The newspaper added that it had asked the White House for comment but had not received a response.
The online reaction blended critiques of political optics with personal jabs about the couple’s age difference, an issue Leavitt has addressed repeatedly since joining Donald Trump’s re-election bid in 2024 and then becoming the youngest White House press secretary in U.S. history in January 2025. Earlier this year, in a conversation on The Megyn Kelly Show, Leavitt described her relationship with Riccio as “very atypical” but emphasised that he is “my greatest supporter, he’s my best friend, and he’s my rock,” comments that have become a touchstone as the relationship has drawn public attention. She explained that they met in 2022 at a dinner during her congressional run in New Hampshire, that she initially hesitated because of the age difference, and that the couple later married in a private ceremony just before Trump’s second inauguration.
Profiles of the couple published earlier this year detailed that Riccio is a Hampton Beach developer who has built a portfolio of properties through his real-estate company. Coverage of their January wedding and family milestones has also noted that the couple’s son, Nicholas Robert “Niko” Riccio, was born in July 2024, several months before Leavitt was named to the senior communications post. She returned to the campaign trail shortly after the birth during a turbulent political period, before moving into the West Wing following the election.
The latest wave of criticism unfolded in the comment threads beneath Leavitt’s Halloween post, where some users joked that Riccio looked more like her father or grandfather, while others focused narrowly on the technical characteristics of the image, pointing to the contrast between the texture of Riccio’s hands and the smoother look of his face. “Man that smoothing filter on her old man’s forehead working overtime,” one user wrote, and another quipped, “Adobe ad for Photoshop.” Photographer Pat Ozols added a sardonic line: “Photoshopping your husband to own the libs.” The tenor of those remarks mirrored broader culture-war dynamics around the administration and its critics, with personal commentary on the family intersecting with political sentiment about the White House and its messaging.
The Daily Beast reported that Leavitt did not respond to questions about the photo. That outlet also summarised the arc of the couple’s relationship—meeting in New Hampshire, a rapid courtship, a child, and marriage—while highlighting that online jokes often conflated Riccio with Leavitt’s father because of the gap in years. The piece characterised the backlash as part of a pattern of social-media scrutiny that has followed the couple since Leavitt’s public profile rose during the campaign and in her subsequent government role.
Leavitt’s status as the youngest person to hold the press secretary post has been central to her public image, intensifying interest in her personal life. During her Megyn Kelly interview, she said that although she understood the curiosity, “he’s incredible,” adding that Riccio’s independent career allowed him to be “fully supportive” as her job demands have grown. She described a domestic arrangement in which their extended families help with childcare around periods of heightened work intensity, portraying the marriage as one in which her partner’s flexibility has underwritten her own. Those remarks, intended to explain how the couple manages work and family life, have been recirculated by outlets as context whenever the relationship becomes the subject of renewed attention.
The allegation of digital alteration touches on a broader, familiar debate about image editing by public figures. On one side are those who view face-smoothing, filters, and colour grading as routine parts of modern photography—particularly on platforms where many users apply presets or automated enhancements before posting. On the other are critics who argue that any perceived manipulation, especially by public officials, undermines authenticity and invites questions about the boundaries between presentation and misrepresentation. In this instance, the discussion has been sharpened by the availability of independent photographs from the same event: professional images captured at the White House appear to show Riccio with a similar complexion and expression, complicating efforts by commenters to prove that Leavitt had artificially “de-aged” him. The Independent’s review concluded that while the Instagram image likely benefited from some editing for light and colour, it was not obvious that Riccio’s facial features had been altered in a way that significantly changed his appearance.
For Leavitt, whose job requires daily navigation of critical press coverage and combative exchanges in the briefing room, the personal scrutiny is not new. She has previously framed criticism of her relationship as an extension of the political spotlight. In profiles published this year, she is quoted praising Riccio’s quiet temperament and willingness to avoid the public eye even while living adjacent to it. People magazine’s backgrounder on the couple, published around the time of the inauguration, recounted that the pair became engaged in December 2023, married in January 2025, and that Riccio’s business holdings gave the family stability as Leavitt transitioned from campaign communications to the White House podium.
The Halloween photo, however, proved a particularly vivid focal point for critics because it fused political symbolism and family imagery: the White House setting, seasonal costumes, and the presence of their child made the picture broadly shareable, while also providing high-contrast lighting in which texture differences—on hands, cheeks, and foreheads—were easy for users to seize on. That dynamic gave the story momentum beyond Washington’s usual media channels and into mainstream entertainment and lifestyle coverage, where age-gap relationships routinely draw heavy engagement. As comments accumulated, the top-liked messages tended to be those that read the image as manipulated, whether or not forensic evidence supported that interpretation.
The dust-up also arrived not long after Leavitt sought to put the age-gap conversation into perspective in her own words. In the Megyn Kelly interview, she acknowledged that at first she asked herself whether she could date someone nearly three decades older, before deciding the relationship worked for them. “It’s a very atypical love story,” she said, repeating that Riccio had been steadfast through a “chaotic period of life.” Those details, along with the timeline of their engagement, wedding, and the birth of their son, have been publicly verifiable through statements and posts on her accounts, as well as event coverage that followed the new administration into office in January.
What remains unclear is whether Leavitt or the White House intends to address the specific accusation of “airbrushing” directly. The press office did not immediately respond to requests for comment cited by outlets examining the image, and Leavitt has so far avoided engaging with critics in comment threads. That approach is common among senior officials, who often sidestep social-media flare-ups to avoid conferring additional oxygen on ephemeral controversies. In the absence of an on-record response, the public evidence largely consists of the Instagram image itself, the contemporaneous wire photographs, and the comments that followed. The Independent’s side-by-side review is, to date, the most detailed attempt to test the claim, and it stops short of saying the face was digitally “de-aged.”
The episode underscores how quickly personal photographs of political figures can become contested artefacts in the digital era. Leavitt’s picture was shot in a festive context, showing a young family outside a heavily photographed building during an annual event, and posted to an account where supporters and detractors congregate. Within minutes, crowd-sourced assessments of the image’s authenticity accumulated into a narrative powerful enough to draw headline attention. It is a pattern that has played out repeatedly for public officials whose personal lives intermingle with their professional brands—particularly those, like Leavitt, whose youth relative to their position is itself a subject of interest. Whether the reaction fades as quickly as it arrived may depend on whether Leavitt chooses to acknowledge it or ignores it as an online sideshow while she continues her day-to-day role in the briefing room.
For now, the public record about the couple remains straightforward: they met during Leavitt’s first foray into national politics, built a relationship in the glare of a presidential campaign, welcomed a child in 2024, and married shortly before Trump’s return to the White House. Riccio’s independent business career and Leavitt’s own account of his support are consistent themes in interviews and profiles. The dust-up over a single Instagram frame, while fleeting, captures the collision between image culture, political identity, and private life that defines much of modern public service. As of publication, there has been no official rebuttal from Leavitt or the White House addressing the specific claim of “airbrushing,” and the evidence available in contemporaneous photographs leaves the charge unproven even as it fuels another cycle of commentary about one of the administration’s most visible figures and her family.