Back when I was small, I loved to play with my friend Miranda’s My Little Ponies. I didn’t give a tiny stuff for starships or toy cars or any of that nonsense. No, all I wanted was to get my hands on those multi-coloured plastic horses.
Why? Because they could be endlessly beautified and styled, like portable pastel celebrities. You see, even then, I knew my talent and joy lay in makeovers and image management. You could hand me the shabbiest nag in the box and — once I’d taken over their wardrobe and communications — they’d become Queen of Ponyland.
I’d sensed then what I know now: image matters (this obviously doesn’t apply to me, by the way; I am the gay that style forgot …)
As I got older, the art of tweaking and perfecting public appearances still gripped me but I’d abandoned the toybox and moved onto politics. What I most wanted to do was what Gordon Reece did for Thatcher (he was the one who deepened her voice, changed her clothes and made her electable). To me, Maggie was the ultimate My Little Pony.
Of course, here in 2022 getting your public persona right is more important than ever. It’s something Liz Truss and Rishi Sunak must be feeling intensely, as they set about selling the tastiest, juiciest versions of themselves to Conservative Party members. Keir Starmer must be feeling it too: now that Boris Johnson is no longer hogging the limelight, everyone will be paying more attention to him, and presumably the Liberal Democrats also have a leader. All of them will be desperately trying to project some version of themselves that’s somehow shiny and professional while being totally normal and human. It’s a hell of a challenge, and one I’d love to help out with. So several decades post-ponies, here’s a few tips for aspiring PM, my Queer Eye for Parliamentary Guys (and Girls).
First, good outfits are key. Nobody who saw William Hague’s terrible baseball cap (it said “Hague” on it) or Michael Foot’s donkey jacket will ever forget them. Or would ever cast a vote for the people wearing them. Boris was the only one who could get away with looking shabby unchic (and that was as planned as any other get-up). Always seek out a fashionable friend to help (and Rishi, ditch the socks and sliders).
Second, the way you talk to the world is fundamental. Hearing politicos reading from their bland scripts makes me want to cut my ears off, then bury them. Speak to any audience like you do to your best friends at the pub. Though, if you can, use a slightly sexier voice.
Third, try to bring the passion to everything you do. Be angry, be emotional — or at least, learn how to pretend.
Fourth, a handbag helps: it’s something Mrs Thatcher understood. Rishi should go for a Prada, Keir for a Birkin and Liz, a Fendi Baguette (don’t ask me how I know, I just do).
I’ve actually got more nuggets of advice but you won’t get those for free. I’d expect at least a peerage (or maybe an ambassadorship somewhere sunny). Future PMs, I await the call.
In other news...
Southgate, the little chunk of north London where I grew up, has produced more than its fair share of talented and brilliant people.
One of those is Rachel Stevens (of SClub7 fame). My primary school memories that don’t involve the gymnastics team are often about her.
Sadly, as she recently announced, she’s split from her husband. Every break-up is heartbreaking but, after an appropriate amount of time, I wondered if we might start dating again. After all, she was one of my first “girlfriends”. We’re both post-marriage and our families have known each other for decades.
Sure, it would be a surprise to everyone involved but we’d be able to go to parties together, have separate bedrooms and, if it works, maybe tie the knot some day. It was what grandma always wanted.
