Chelsea boots: ruined? Photo: NIKLAS HALLE'N/AFP/Getty Images
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A politician’s right to shoes: it's not just the women whose footwear is telling

Theresa May and Nicola Sturgeon are known for their style - but what about the other leaders? Harper's Bazaar editor Justine Picardie explains how shoes mirror views.

“Views not shoes,” declares the Fawcett Society in its new campaign to monitor the ways in which female politicians are subjected to sexist reporting. “Are we given shoe commentary rather than hearing what women have to say on the economy?” asks the society; to which, I am afraid, the answer appears to be yes. But what might come as a surprise is that most of the commentary doesn’t concern women – not even Theresa May, she of the leopard-print kitten heels and thigh-high patent leather boots; or Nicola Sturgeon, with her fondness for L K Bennett nude courts – but the male party leaders instead.

Consider the attention paid to Ed Mili­band’s choice of footwear for the live television debate at the beginning of the month. According to the Daily Mirror, on the day of the debate the Labour leader sent an aide to buy two new pairs of sensible black shoes from Clarks in Manchester, “for stomping the campaign trail” and “to kick rivals into touch”. (Cue “Don’t put your foot in it” puns from the Manchester Evening News, among others.) As for the subliminal message of the shoes: according to the shop assistant who sold them, “They are a popular comfortable, working shoe”; which I’m guessing is supposed to play well with the “hard-working families” that political leaders have been citing so often in this campaign.

Elsewhere, the day before the debate, the Guardian had asked, “Has David Cameron ruined the Chelsea boot look?” One of the news­paper’s style-conscious journalists had noted that the Prime Minister wore a black leather pair – similar to those popularised by the Beatles in the early Sixties – to the unveiling ceremony of a statue of Mahatma Gandhi in Parliament Square. At first, I wondered if the story was an April Fool’s joke but it turned out that both the Daily Mail and the Times had already reported the previous week on Cameron’s penchant for Chelsea boots – a design worn by fashionable metropolitan types (as opposed to Big Beasts such as Ken Clarke, whose battered suede Hush Puppies have become as much of a trademark as Margaret Thatcher’s handbag was).

Nick Clegg, on the other hand, appears to be taking a slightly more casual approach, or at least he did on his visit to Go Ape in Devon on 8 April, when he donned rugged brown footwear to cross a treetop rope bridge, in a photo opportunity for which he teamed navy chinos with a safety harness. I confess, the semiotics of the outfit were not altogether clear (the shoes veered towards being trainers but were not quite; the chinos were somewhat crumpled; his pale-blue shirtsleeves were rolled up). But if pressed, I’d say the overall effect was meant to show that Clegg is a jolly good sport, who can occasionally break free from the more formal tailoring that has characterised his campaign appearances so far (dark suits of a design eerily similar to those worn by Cameron and Miliband).

Now, you could feel that these and other sartorial observations are yet more evidence of the woeful trivialisation of politics. Never mind that men are as liable as women to be subjected to sole-searching commentary, rather than being applauded for their soul-stirring oratory – it’s still an indication of the decline of proper political analysis. Which may very well be true; however, as Virginia Woolf observed, “Vain trifles as they seem, clothes have... more important offices than merely to keep us warm. They change our view of the world and the world’s view of us.”

As it happens, Woolf was a supporter of the organisation that became the Faw­cett Society. Yet her commitment to women’s rights did not negate her interest in women’s shoes (and men’s, on occasion), including the ones that she saw while visiting the Brontë Parsonage Museum in Haworth. “The natural fate of such things is to die before the body that wore them,” observed Woolf, who found herself curiously touched by the sight of Charlotte Brontë’s shoes, preserved in a glass case along with a thin muslin dress; relics that had “outlived her”.

Shoes are also scattered through Woolf’s novels – often kicked off by a female protagonist for being too tight. And while the significance of Woolf’s fictional shoes may not be as explicit as the footwear in the fairy tales of Hans Christian Andersen (the son of a cobbler, who conjured up demonic slippers in The Red Shoes), they are seldom irrelevant to the inner lives of her characters.

Not that I am demanding that the election campaign should consist henceforth of “Shoes not views”. Nor am I calling for our political leaders to follow Gandhi’s barefooted example (though Nick Clegg has previously confessed to padding about his office with no shoes on during spells of hot weather). Yet they might find some comfort in Gandhi’s declaration: “I will not let anyone walk through my mind with their dirty feet.” Compare and contrast with Nigel Farage, who took to Twitter to exclaim: “There are two things in life I can’t bear. David Cameron and unpolished shoes.”

We have been warned...

Justine Picardie is the editor-in-chief of Harper’s Bazaar

This article first appeared in the 17 April 2015 issue of the New Statesman, The Election Special

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The economics of outrage: Why you haven't seen the end of Katie Hopkins

Her distasteful tweet may have cost her a job at LBC, but this isn't the last we've seen of Britain's biggest troll. 

Another atrocity, other surge of grief and fear, and there like clockwork was the UK’s biggest troll. Hours after the explosion at the Manchester Arena that killed 22 mostly young and female concert goers, Katie Hopkins weighed in with a very on-brand tweet calling for a “final solution” to the complex issue of terrorism.

She quickly deleted it, replacing the offending phrase with the words “true solution”, but did not tone down the essentially fascist message. Few thought it had been an innocent mistake on the part of someone unaware of the historical connotations of those two words.  And no matter how many urged their fellow web users not to give Hopkins the attention she craved, it still sparked angry tweets, condemnatory news articles and even reports to the police.

Hopkins has lost her presenting job at LBC radio, but she is yet to lose her column at Mail Online, and it’s quite likely she won’t.

Mail Online and its print counterpart The Daily Mail have regularly shown they are prepared to go down the deliberately divisive path Hopkins was signposting. But even if the site's managing editor Martin Clarke was secretly a liberal sandal-wearer, there are also very good economic reasons for Mail Online to stick with her. The extreme and outrageous is great at gaining attention, and attention is what makes money for Mail Online.

It is ironic that Hopkins’s career was initially helped by TV’s attempts to provide balance. Producers could rely on her to provide a counterweight to even the most committed and rational bleeding-heart liberal.

As Patrick Smith, a former media specialist who is currently a senior reporter at BuzzFeed News points out: “It’s very difficult for producers who are legally bound to be balanced, they will sometimes literally have lawyers in the room.”

“That in a way is why some people who are skirting very close or beyond the bounds of taste and decency get on air.”

But while TV may have made Hopkins, it is online where her extreme views perform best.  As digital publishers have learned, the best way to get the shares, clicks and page views that make them money is to provoke an emotional response. And there are few things as good at provoking an emotional response as extreme and outrageous political views.

And in many ways it doesn’t matter whether that response is negative or positive. Those who complain about what Hopkins says are also the ones who draw attention to it – many will read what she writes in order to know exactly why they should hate her.

Of course using outrageous views as a sales tactic is not confined to the web – The Daily Mail prints columns by Sarah Vine for a reason - but the risks of pushing the boundaries of taste and decency are greater in a linear, analogue world. Cancelling a newspaper subscription or changing radio station is a simpler and often longer-lasting act than pledging to never click on a tempting link on Twitter or Facebook. LBC may have had far more to lose from sticking with Hopkins than Mail Online does, and much less to gain. Someone prepared to say what Hopkins says will not be out of work for long. 

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