Sorry, if you want to get ahead don’t wear hoodie! a
After Labour’s deputy wore leopard leggings and chunky boots, a No10 veteran argues it’s NOT anti-feminist to say appearances do matter in politics
By day, Sir Keir Starmer r is the mild-mannered d Leader of the Opposition; iby night he is d.I. I. Starmer of the Fashion n Police, his forensic gaze scanning g for slobbery, sloppiness and other r sartorial crimes. Or so the e Westminster gossip would have us believe.
allegedly, the Labour leader’s team am was appalled by the clothing choices s of his deputy, angela Rayner, on an official cial visit to Hartlepool ahead of the by-election leclast week. Jim McMahon, the Oldign, Oldham MP who ran the party’s campaign, is said to have complained that Rayner ner was ‘dressed inappropriately’.
What was Rayner’s fashion crime? me? The combination of leopard print trousers, rounky an orange hooded top, chunky leather boots and padded jacket (one one imagines the Savile Row-suited Starmer mer wincing and pressing a lavenderscented derirst handkerchief to his brow).
anyone seeing Rayner for the first time that day might have assumed she was a mum on her way to the school hool gates, not one of the most senior politicians litior in the land campaigning for a critical by-election.
I can hear the outraged cries now w — ‘Sexism!’ ‘ Snobbery!’ — and sure, it does feel a little Edwardian to be scandalised by a lady failing to wear a skirt. The feminist in me wants to defend a woman’s right to don whatever her heart desires, whether elasticated waistbands or a bobbly old jumper.
But let’s get real. We judge people within milliseconds of meeting them on the basis of their clothes — and the scrutiny is always going to be more acute for politicians.
The old saying goes that you should ‘dress for the job you want, not the job you have’; the job
DOES Rayner wants is to help steer the fifth largest economy in the world.
a hoodie really project the right image? Can you imagine Joe Biden in a backwards baseball cap, or Xi Jinping sloping around in a pair of jogging bottoms? No — because they understand that a politician’s clothes matter deeply.
The right clothes project power and instil confidence, and in certain professions that is essential. If I were boarding a plane and saw the pilot wearing Bermuda shorts, I would be alarmed. If before an operation my surgeon rocked up in a tracksuit and scuffed trainers I would panic. Likewise, the sight of a working politician in casual clobber is not a reassuring one.
Call it superficial, but if someone is wearing stretchy leggings or an old anorak I struggle to picture them in charge of Britain’s nuclear deterrent, or running a department of state. Smart clothes make someone look ‘together’ mentally as well as sartorially.
Thus I have always endeavoured to look shiny as a new pin in the workplace. For a decade or so I worked in Westminster, mainly as chief speechwriter in No 10. despite being a natural slob who is most at home in pyjamas, I made a huge effort to look smart in the hallowed corridors of downing Street. Heels were worn daily, hair was blow-dried weekly, clothes were carefully de-bobbled with one of those sticky de-bobbler things before I left the front door. aware of my privilege of working at the heart of government, I dressed for success. Surely those who represent us should do the same?
‘Clothes maketh the man’, and scruffy clothes make us doubt their abilities. This is partly why Middle England was so disapproving of Jeremy Corbyn. Planning to nationalise half the economy was bad enough; looking as though he had been covered in glue and rolled through the nearest charity shop was beyond the pale.
Corbyn’s appearance at the Cenotaph on Remembrance day 2018 was perhaps the last straw; surrounded by elderly veterans in midnight black, Corbyn had picked out a grey hooded anorak. The informality was an insult — and this is the key point about dressing smartly. Making an effort with clothing is not mere narcissism, it is a courtesy to those around us. Wearing smart clothes, shined shoes and a neat tie shows you care enough to bother, and it seemed Corbyn rarely did.
Of course, there are hideous double standards when it comes to the appearance of male and female politicians. While most of the men are sorted with a quick visit to Moss Bros, women must agonise daily about what they wear and what it will say about them. Necklace too showy? Trousers too clingy? Top too cleavage-y?
Labour MP Jess Phillips has fumed: ‘I get constant comments on the clothes I wear’, and she is far from alone.
Theresa May’s wardrobe got as much press as her policies, most notably on the occasion when she posed in a pair of pricey leather trousers (£995, to be precise). Former MP Tracy Brabin was attacked by social media trolls for wearing an off-the- shoulder dress at the despatch Box in the House of Commons; she tweeted back: ‘I can confirm I’m not a slag; hungover; a tart; about to breastfeed; a slapper...’
Meanwhile Boris Johnson is famed for his untucked shirts and ill-fitting suits. Our Prime Minister is regularly pictured jogging wearing the same old fleece and a bandana that should have died with the boybands of the 1990s. and yet all these sins are forgiven at the ballot box.
I understand why this double standard infuriates female politicians, but there is an upside. While male politicians’ style tends to get lost in a sea of grey suits, women can use their clothing choices to stand out and make a statement.
No one knew that better than Margaret Thatcher, the original power dresser, whose pussy-bow blouses and sharply cut suits told friends at home and enemies abroad that here was a woman who meant business. It is said that Thatcher even refused to remove her high heels on longhaul flights, no doubt believing it would have undermined her reputation for superhuman steeliness.
Thatcher recognised that politics is a kind of theatre, and believed that its prominent players should dress for the part. For the Iron Lady, clothes were not a hindrance to being taken seriously but an extra tool in her armoury. The shoulder pads, pearls and handbags enhanced her power.
Some canny women in political life today know how to play this game. Carrie Symonds, the prime minister’s fiancée, wears clothes that not only look rather beautiful but champion the causes she cares about.
HEADING out to vote in last week’s elections she wore a floral ‘ eco- dress’ that nodded to her career as an environmentalist. Nicola Sturgeon is often seen in neatly tailored dresses by Scottish designers, projecting an image of competence and patriotism.
angela Rayner would do well to take a leaf out of their books, ditch the hoodie and dress for success. Though I don’t share her politics, I admire her story: a carer for her mother at ten, a mother herself at 16; to rise from these beginnings to the highest levels of politics is impressive. It would be a shame, then, if a few misjudged outfits came to define her.
‘Fashion is instant language,’ said designer Miuccia Prada — and when politicians head to the wardrobe in the morning, they must think carefully about what they want to say.
I DO wish senior police officers would stop trying to reassure us that being murdered is ‘thankfully incredibly rare’ as was said in the cases of Sarah Everard and PCSO Julia James. Twenty-one women have been killed since early March and WIs in East Kent are meeting in the afternoon rather than the evening because women are so frightened. It’s clearly not rare at all. I READ that listening to Dave Brubeck or Miles Davis would help you choose fresh fruit over doughnuts and leafy greens over pizzas. I tried it. Two chocolate digestives later, I decided it didn’t work.