The shambolic eccentric
Boris Johnson has bumbled his way into the UK’S top job, yet he looks like he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards, writes Annie Brown.
‘‘Though no-one would accuse me of being particularly well-dressed, I appreciate this stuff and I understand the vital importance of supporting it.’’
Boris Johnson
There is an image of Boris Johnson, the newly minted Prime Minister of the United Kingdom after he won the Conservative Party leadership last week, that encapsulates his ‘‘eccentricity’’.
It’s a word oft-used to describe the thatchhaired, Eton- and Oxford-educated, bumbling former London mayor.
It’s one of Johnson’s infamous running outfits and it consists of a fleece jacket, lairy red Hawaiian print shorts, an ancient looking polo shirt and a beanie. It’s the kind of slovenly get-up only the rich or eccentric can get away with.
It fits with Johnson’s general aesthetic, that of everything being a bit shambolic. It’s as though he got stuck in a mulberry bush on his way to a classics lecture.
You can’t help but wonder whether for a time he might have adopted a cane, or at least an umbrella with a duck on it, and not washed his clothes for a month as an experiment.
Prominent English fashion journalist Sarah Mower shared the image on her Instagram with the caption, ‘‘this is what male British entitlement looks like’’.
(New Zealand-born, Uk-based fashion editor Tim Blanks wrote in the comments that he thought it was a picture of actress Margaret Rutherford who famously played Miss Marple in 1960s film adaptations of Agatha Christie’s famous mystery novels).
Yet Vanessa Friedman, fashion editor of the
New York Times noted in an article last week titled Boris Johnson and the Rise of Silly Style, ‘‘it is possible that Mr Johnson trumps even President Trump when it comes to strategic use of a deceptively absurd image and sleight of sartorial hand’’.
Friedman wrote that he can look a mess because he comes from a privileged position, that of the ‘‘mythical’’ English toff eccentric (immortalised by P G Wodehouse), but Johnson’s signature rumpled look is also, strangely, an equaliser.
‘‘Yes, he looks like an idiot sometimes. But hey, don’t we all?’’ Friedman wrote.
But that’s not to diminish fashion, or the carefully calibrated messaging it creates, particularly when it comes to politics and winning.
Johnson has, in the past, admitted his indifference to fashion, other than a good ‘‘cycling sock’’, despite being a quite outspoken supporter of it.
In 2009, he told Women’s Wear Daily,
‘‘Even though no-one would accuse me of being particularly well-dressed, I appreciate this stuff and I understand the vital importance of supporting it.
‘‘Fashion is not just something that makes London one of the most attractive, vibrant cities to come and live and work in, of course it earns huge sums of money in terms of exports. It’s part of a creative sector in London that has a turnover of about £18 billion (NZ$29.2 billion) a year.’’
The fashion industry is now worth about £32 billion to the UK economy. As an aside, the fashion industry is bracing for a significant impact from Brexit, certainly the most glaring issue on Johnson’s new to-do list.
Given politics has become such a game of ‘‘optics’’, it’s become second nature to analyse the fashion of politicians. To ignore it is to dismiss a powerful tool, and potential disaster if not deployed well, at a politician’s disposal.
Theresa May, Johnson’s doomed predecessor famously caused ‘‘Trouser-gate’’ with the $1700 leather trousers she wore for a photoshoot, and garnered column inches for her leopard print shoes, her Vivienne Westwood tartan suits, and statement accessories.
Melania Trump was justly criticised for her choice to wear a Zara jacket with ‘‘I really don’t care, do u?’’ emblazoned on the back to visit migrant child detention centres. Nancy Pelosi practically started a movement with the Max Mara coat she wore so triumphantly after a meeting in the Oval Office with President Trump.
But is Johnson an eccentric or a slob? Does the
definition even matter, especially when you consider just how far we’ve come, sartorially speaking, when it comes to dressing for leadership? Paul Keating’s Zegna suits and Barack Obama’s suave style seem so long ago. Though it must be said that women, particularly female leaders, are generally not afforded the opportunity to be eccentric or slovenly of dress.
In a recent series for the BBC, English journalist Will Self bemoaned the death of the ‘‘true eccentric’’, believing the real eccentric, the originals, are disappearing because of the ‘‘neoliberal marketplace of difference’’. That and social media and all its phonies and commodification of lifestyles.
In 2013, Andrew O’hagan wrote in the
New York Times that the world had lost its true fashion eccentrics. In the article, he mentions the late, great, fashion editor Isabella Blow who discovered genius designer Alexander Mcqueen, and who famously wore things such as giant antlers to eat her sandwiches in the staff canteen at the Sunday Times offices when she worked there as a fashion editor.
A true eccentric, wrote O’hagan, is devoted to ‘‘individuality and innovation’’.
He said of Blow: ‘‘Eccentrics don’t just dress up, they elevate the conversation by revealing, as she did, the places where the conversation hasn’t yet dared to go.’’
That may be a little grandiose a statement for Johnson’s skew-whiff ties. But certainly the idea that shambolic dress is no longer an issue for a world leader is certainly a talking point.
In any case, it is always interesting to discuss the clothing choices of the most powerful because they always tell us something, about them, about us and about power.