False Facts About Donald Trump You Always Thought Were True

Regardless of how you feel about Donald J. Trump, it's undeniable that he's been a fascinating public figure for years. Though he'd been toying with the idea of running for president for decades, it was his outspoken nature, flamboyant wealth, and media presence that made him a household name. Before winning America's highest political office, Trump was perhaps best known for his casinos and his popular reality show, The Apprentice. He's also a man who's never been afraid to boast his achievements and slam his detractors. Inflated by his own claims, as well as the tabloid aura that tends to surround wealthy public figures, Trump's persona grew more and more outlandish over time. 

While much about Trump's businesses and personal life remains mired in controversy, some truth about the real estate tycoon-turned 45th President of the United States has been revealed. Here are some false facts about Trump you always thought were true.

This one gets a little tricky, because, if you're like us, trying to understand bankruptcy law is a bit like trying to find the center of the maze in Westworld. The fact of the matter is that out of the 515 businesses that Donald Trump is involved with, only three of his companies have ever declared bankruptcy, one of which, Trump Entertainment Resorts, did so twice in five years. Trump himself has never declared personal bankruptcy, and in an interview with ABC News, he maintained that what happened to his companies that did file for Chapter 11 was merely "a fantastic deal" in which he "used the laws of this country to pare debt."

Okay, fair enough. After all, lots of corporations use bankruptcy laws as a way to renegotiate debt and restructure ownership, but what about the infamous moment during his first debate with Hillary Clinton, in which he admitted that due to a $916 million net operating loss, he was able to not pay federal taxes for years? According to The New York Times, this loss was reported on Trump's 1995 federal tax return and was a direct result of "the financial wreckage he left behind in the early 1990s through mismanagement of three Atlantic City casinos, his ill-fated foray into the airline business and his ill-timed purchase of The Plaza Hotel in Manhattan." Trump famously referred to the maneuver as "smart," and we kind of have to agree that it was. Not only did personally losing almost a billion dollars not leave him in financial ruin, but he found a tax loophole that would help him recoup some of those losses (for the next 18 years, possibly) and went on to become a television star and president of the United States.

Here's another one about the election, but don't worry, we're not trying to start an awkward Facebook thread that goes on and on until someone's not invited to family functions anymore. This "false fact" is pretty easy to debunk, so it shouldn't make too many waves.

While he was still campaigning for the Republican nomination, Donald Trump said at one of the debates, "I don't have to give you a website because I'm self-funding my campaign. I'm putting up my own money," but according to The Washington Post, as of January 2016, not only was most of Trump's campaign donor-funded, but his website actually did have "a prominent 'donate' button on its homepage." According to campaign finance watchdog site, Open Secrets, Trump contributed more than $56 million dollars to his own campaign, which ultimately raised more than $306 million during the course of the election process.

We could point out that campaign finance is a thorny issue with many complicated facets, and that there isn't a reasonable expectation that a candidate wouldn't take donations, because that's a way for the public to be involved in the political process, or we could all just agree that to a use of a cut-and-dry term like "self-funded" only works like this in the arena of politics. After all, could any of us announce that we're self-funding our Chipotle burrito, then proceed to pay cash for 15 percent of it and ask the rest of the people in line to chip in for the rest? Not likely.

Donald Trump's hair is his defining physical characteristic. There is no other public figure whose locks have fascinated so many people, except for maybe record producer Phil Spector, but that guy's a convicted murderer, so maybe that's not a great comparison. Anyway, there is tons of speculation about whether Trump has hair plugs, a toupe, some kind of insane transplant that only billionaires can afford, or even just a simple chinchilla pelt stapled to his skull. Gawker even did a lengthy and impressively in-depth examination that strongly suggested Trump had and/or was continuing to receive exclusive treatments from Dr. Edward Ivari using a "less-invasive, nonsurgical method" called "microcylinder intervention." However, that article really couldn't prove anything, and if you look at Vanity Fair's "Illustrated History of Donald Trump's Hair," it's clear he's been swirling and combing forward his hair in the same strange way since the '80s.

But still, it could have been fake way back then, right? According to Trump's former hairdresser, Amy Lasch, the answer is definitively no — that mind-bending mop on Trump's dome is 100 percent authentic. In an interview with the Mirror, Lasch said, "He does it himself. It is real and it is his hair — he doesn't have plugs." We're talking about a woman who was allowed up close, personal access to those wispy strands of wonder, and she's confirming their authenticity, and she's by no means a Trump loyalist. Lasch also referred to the president-elect as "flirty," "inappropriate," and "chauvinistic," so if she had an axe to grind, blowing the lid off of Trump's...lid would have been a power move for the ages.

One of the oft-quoted praises of Trump is that he's a branding genius, which may seem true, considering his filing to the Federal Election Commission reported that 268 companies "bear his name," according to The Washington Post. A closer look reveals that many of the businesses and buildings adorned with his famous golden Trump logo are merely licensing deals. NPR found that in some cases, the Trump name is only left behind as a contract stipulation as part of the sale of a building, which means his name sits on properties he no longer owns. Doesn't that make it seem like a form of corporate graffiti at that point?

Then there are his actual brands that represent businesses he does or did own, many of which have not seen success. Trump Steaks have been a late night talk show punchline for years. The Trump Shuttle, aka Trump Airlines, was a disaster. He launched Trump Mortgage a year and a half before the housing market crashed. All three Atlantic City Casinos that bore his name have closed. And his so-called Trump University had to pay a $25 million settlement over fraud allegations in a high-profile class action suit. While it's remarkable Trump still attempts to trade on his name as the epitome of luxury and success in the face of so many spectacular failures, we feel it can't be said that it is particularly "genius" to slap one's name onto a bunch of duds, especially the casinos. What a blow to the moniker to be associated with the bumbling of a can't-lose kind of business like gambling. We imagine it's kind of like how the former CEO of a certain defunct video rental chain is probably pretty relieved that his name isn't John Blockbuster.

Before he was the President of the United States and the host of The Apprentice, Donald Trump was a New York real estate magnate. And since that city is the media capital of the Western world, his professional and personal activities were dutifully reported, making The Donald into a nationally known figure, as well as one of the most famous businessmen in 1980s America.

In 1987, Trump capitalized on that image and status by publishing The Art of the Deal, a mixture of a business and negotiation how-to manual and professional manifesto. The book was wildly successful, spending 13 weeks at No. 1 on The New York Times' bestseller list, and nearly a year on the chart in total (via The New Yorker). The Art of the Deal certainly seems like a very Trumpian image-building, money-making opportunity, and it was — it just wasn't Trump's idea.

In 1984, GQ published an issue featuring a cover story on Trump, and Si Newhouse, head of the company that owned GQ's publisher, noticed that newsstand sales were extremely robust. Newhouse's conglomerate also owned book publisher Random House, and he reached out to Trump about writing a full-length tome. After showing the future president a mock-up of the book (a flattering picture of Trump, and his name in gold letters), freelance writer Tony Schwartz was hired to shadow Trump and ghostwrite The Art of the Deal.