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Thursday, 18th March 2010

Political cross-dressing

David Blackburn 4:12pm

Budget deficits are his forte, but gentleman’s tailoring is Fraser Nelson’s passion. His command of the esoteric varieties of pleat and stripe is exhaustive. He can identify the style of an overcoat from a hundred yards and Jermyn Street is a glimpse of paradise.

Gone are the days of props, such as pipes and monocles, but male fashion makes a very definite statement. London is awash with men sporting unofficial uniforms. Nowhere are these more prevalent than in Westminster.  On the face of it, there is not much to see - all the male MPs wear jackets and ties. But politics resides in the simple variations of colour combinations and the cut of a coat. Take the regimented New Labour outfit, modelled above by its creator. The red tie provides a reassuring link with old Labour; the white shirt is deliberately nondescript. But the suit is conspicuously well cut. Mr Blair is not just a friend of the filthy rich; he is filthy rich and getting ever richer. He almost looks conservative.

The contrast with politicians who want to identify with the working class could not be clearer. Dennis Skinner does not have it in him to be a dandy, but surely he could be slightly better dressed? His sports jacket is so ill-fighting it inhabits him. You can almost smell the scent of the working man’s club emanating from it. And Conservative front bencher Chris Grayling (below) presents himself as a friend of the working man by combining colours that clash – red on purple or puce on pastel blue.

Do these contrivances work? On the evidence of these three’s success you’d have to conclude that they do.

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Beer Moth

March 18th, 2010 9:42pm Report this comment

I would be happy to forward one of my ill-fitting sports jackets should anyone in the Spectator office hanker once more - or more likely, for the first time - for that distinctive spilt beer/cheese and onion/stale tobacco stench of the working man's club.

A stickler for tradition, I would have to insist that the putrefying mushroom vol-au-vait be left unmolested in the top pocket, in memory of a wonderful 70's running buffet.

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