Style is the most abused word in the English language. It is usually attributed to fashionable people by those not in the know. Style, however, is an elusive quality, and few fashionable people and almost no celebrities possess it outright. No one is capable of buying it, although thousands try. The dictionary defines ‘style’ as a noticeably superior quality. It is of an abstract nature and one either has it or one does not. As a child, I used to admire dictators, their brilliant uniforms, their swagger and their conviction. Although I hate to admit it, I still like dictators and for a very good reason: their lack of hypocrisy. They do not resort to taking the advice of pollsters and image-makers in order to find out who they ought to be. They don’t give a fig for what the great unwashed think. Imagine caring what Jade Goody’s wishes are. After all, style has a lot to do with lack of pretence.
It might seem lightweight at first glance, but sartorial elegance and dictatorial allure go hand-in-hand. Stalin was too short, too pockmarked and looked too much like the wily peasant he was to be able to hide behind the military uniforms he affected. Physical presence is important. Hence Hitler’s moustache made him look too ridiculous, and his Nazi uniforms were too loose to pass muster. He should have copied his Wehrmacht marshals where dress sense was concerned. Ditto poor old Benito. Italians have always had style, but somehow the fascists failed the ultimate test. Too much black, I suppose, although Ciano was a sartorial triumph until the end.
No, one of the most elegant dictators was Ion Antonescu, the Romanian general who was born an aristocrat, seized power in 1940 and was executed in 1946 by the winners, as is the usual case.

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