Nitpicking politicians’ fashion choices stops us finding out who they really are

It’s the “battle of the bland”, he told me. Rishi Sunak is seen as competent but slightly weak compared to the bombastic (and now ex-MP) Boris Johnson; people don’t really know what Sir Keir Starmer stands for; and when it comes to Liberal Democrat leader Sir Ed Davey, he “isn’t scaring anyone”. Ouch.

This impression of “blandness” probably comes from the fact that - despite their political differences - there are some similarities between these three men. They all went to Oxford, they all have middle class accents, they’re all more authentic away from the TV cameras than they are in front of them, when they sometimes appear a bit stilted.

None of them completely hide their families away, but none of them share every detail with the public either. That’s a good thing - they’re entitled to their personal lives - but it reinforces the impression that we don’t know them very well.

When we can’t read people very well, we look for different ways to get an insight into their lives, their personalities. As well as their other likenesses, Sunak, Starmer and Davey all dress quite similarly (in public anyway): smart suits and ties, occasionally the top button undone and sleeves rolled up if they want to show they mean business. Then, every so often, we get a flash of colour - or in this case, leather.

The Prime Minister got burned in the press last summer for turning up to a building site on Teesside wearing a £500 pair of Prada suede shoes. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake on a visit to Dover this week - the trip included going on a dinghy in the English Channel - so instead came in large Timberland boots accompanied by what appeared to be tight-fitting smart trousers. Twitter predictably had a field day and the Prime Minister’s pledge to “stop the boats” - the reason he went to Dover in the first place - quickly turned into “stop the boots”.

Even the vaunted fashion critic, Derek Guy, chipped in with his thoughts. “If you wear skinny jeans or pants”, he tweeted, “don’t pair them with giant work boots”. He suggested jodhpurs as an alternative, but it’s probably a ‘hard no’ from Downing Street on that one.

Starmer’s wardrobe has also been scrutinised whenever he’s dared to be photographed in something other than a suit. He’s been spotted a few times in a casual black Italian polo shirt - about as inoffensive as you can get but, if you believe the court of social media opinion, a garment that gives off “dull dad” vibes.

And this is the problem when politics and fashion collide. Parliament has a strict dress code, so you’d expect our political leaders to be suited and booted in the Commons. But when they step outside Westminster, how do we want them to dress?

If we’re so keen for that insight I mentioned and want them to show a bit of themselves, reveal a bit of ankle (literally in some cases), why do we rush to tear them apart? Unless they turn up to a drinks party in a T-shirt with some horrendously offensive slogan on the front, it feels unfair and it’s time it stopped.

It should be said that the criticism of Sunak and Starmer’s sartorial choices has been on the “teasing” end of the spectrum - and quickly forgotten as the news cycle rumbles on. Female politicians have faced far more sexist critiques, purely by virtue of being women.

In 2014, the Daily Mail was widely criticised for a picture item it ran during a government reshuffle entitled the “Downing Street Catwalk”. Penny Mordaunt, it claimed, shone in a “tight, bright purple dress” but Liz Truss looked a “little bit too 80s air hostess”. A couple of years later, a non-row about Theresa May wearing leather trousers made headlines for days.

Fashion choices can enhance your brand, though. Well before his Prada faux-pas and Timberland trip-up, you might remember photos were released of Sunak working in a grey hoodie early in the Covid crisis in 2020.

The then Chancellor was swiftly hailed as “Dishy Rishi” - the relatable face of government at a time when millions of us were also in hoodies working from home for the first time. Those pictures seemed to surprise people - who were so used to seeing their elected representatives in formalwear, it was a perception-shattering break from the norm.

In a world where substance was more important than style, this would matter less. That is obviously not the world we live in - and politicians of all stripes will, for better or worse, continue to face relentless scrutiny whenever their clothing deviates from our impossible-to-meet expectations.

But if we were a little less hard on them donning a polo shirt or a pair of boots, maybe they’d be prepared to open up a bit more to us all. You never know, it could give the “battle of the bland” a bit more flavour.