Keir Starmer

Picture the scene. It’s a glorious mid-July evening in Berlin, the summer heat magnified by the excitement of the fans inside the Olympiastadion. The referee blows his whistle and England have finally done it: a first European Championship title for the men’s team. A glorious conclusion to a tournament that began so inauspiciously.

The team gather in the centre circle, drained but deliriously happy, before beginning a lap of honour. Fans sing “Sweet Caroline” and “Three Lions”, and the stadium is a sea of replica England kits through the ages — white, red and blue. High up in the stands, a besuited Prince William grins, thrilled that Aston Villa’s Ollie Watkins scored the winning goal. Next to him is Britain’s new prime minister, football-mad Keir Starmer, fresh from general election victory, his spectacles slightly misty but not a swept back hair out of place. He’s come not only as PM, but as a fan, resplendent in a crisp, plain white T-shirt. Prince William glances at it and wonders whether those are abs or man boobs. Poor Keir, his plain white T took a bit of a pasting the other day, when he was pictured wearing it during England’s opening Euros game against Serbia. His companions in the pub, including Angela Rayner and the comedians, John Richardson and Matt Forde, were all decked out in England kits but, despite being known to have one of his own, the Labour leader had played things very, very safe. Some commentators suggested he’d been worried about upsetting Scottish voters. Others queried the packet-fresh whiteness of the garment — while some unkind social media users suggested that it wasn’t an ideal choice for a man of his age. Really, politicians can’t win when it comes to sartorial decision-making. Go for haute couture and you’ll be roundly mocked for being out of touch — aim for cool and you’ll be laughed at for being try-hard. But you’ll also be damned for being boring if you stick to fashion’s centre ground.

Starmer has had his fair share of all three charges. He made a splash, and generated some brickbats, when he was spotted wearing a £500 jacket in May, while his Stone Island polo shirt led to accusations of trying to be “down with the kids”.

But mainly, the man who would be PM has had to face the charge of blandness when it comes to his style. White T-shirt aside, he tends to prefer darker tones, with little razzle-dazzle. He likes suits from Charles Tyrwhitt, and his shirts all seem to blend into one — the major distinction being that sometimes he rolls his sleeves up, and sometimes he keeps them down. He wears a tie well, but you imagine he would probably prefer not to. If you think Starmer is a true centrist dad, then the wardrobe broadly agrees. He probably felt a bit sad when Ted Baker went into administration but takes succour from the fact that Crew Clothing is always a good bet for comfortable yet smart jeans and sweaters. And although Adidas must have been spitting when both he and Rishi Sunak turned out to be fans, let’s be honest, which middle-aged man hasn’t tried to hang onto their youth via a pair of Gazelles? It’s only a surprise that Keir doesn’t seem to own any footwear by New Balance. Give it time, perhaps. After all, it could be half a slogan for his new, New Labour.

It shouldn’t really matter what a politician wears, but still, if it came down to fashion sense alone, Keir would get my vote every time. Rishi’s financier style doesn’t work for me, and there can surely be little worse than Nigel Farage’s double-breasted suits. Meanwhile, Ed Davey seems to spend most of his time in wetsuits these days.

Starmer, by contrast, just looks normal. He’s got a few nice things, but even they are hardly showy. His suits are steady, without frills. His casualwear would fit in on most high streets on a Saturday morning. If you want a label for it, how about “decent bloke chic” — if that’s not a contradiction in terms. As for his England-supporter garb, how can you go wrong with a plain white T-shirt? The only trouble is that Gareth Southgate and his players may not, on current form, provide Keir with many more opportunities to wear it.

Meanwhile, the Conservative Party seems to have arrived at the point where it has lost its ability to be ruthless in the pursuit and retention of power. The party’s two parliamentary candidates who are accused of using insider knowledge to make bets on the date of the next election are being investigated by the Gambling Commission. One, Craig Williams, standing in Montgomeryshire, actually admits to making a “huge error of judgement”.

The other, Laura Saunders, who wants to be MP for Bristol North West, has said she may sue the BBC, which broke the story, over “infringement of privacy rights”. Her solicitor says: “As the Conservative Party has already stated, investigations are ongoing. Ms Saunders will be cooperating with the Gambling Commission and has nothing further to add.” Keir Starmer, meanwhile, has said that if they were his candidates “their feet wouldn’t touch the ground”. Starmer is showing the Tories how to be ruthless in the pursuit of power these days. So a serious scandal, bad enough in itself, has been exacerbated by open disagreements among Conservatives in the middle of a general election campaign. A pathologist observing these conditions in a patient would say it looks terminal.

The Independent