Slipping into something slinky has no place in political commentary

“WHEN Teresa May slipped into her slinky red dress on Wednesday morning, she knew exactly the effect her outfit would have,” wrote somebody in the Daily Mail the other day.

He — because obviously it was a he — was referring to a senior UK politician’s wardrobe choice on the day another senior UK politician announced a budget that will take around €40 a week from disabled people to fund tax cuts for high earners.

“Mrs May….knows that moving a hemline up or a neckline down can be a powerful political tool.” The implication was weapons of mass distraction.

What? WHAT? As one politician mugs the disabled, we are meant to be distracted by the cleavage of another? Is this some kind of fantasy horror role play? Are we sharing a mass hallucination of an old episode of Mad Men directed by George A Romero?

Because I’m fairly sure the calendar says ‘2016’ and beyond the private environs of adult play — where, if you want to hoik up your hemline or yank down your neckline, go right ahead, while pretending to be anything you like, even a senior UK politician if that’s what melts your butter — we were supposed to be grown up and equal. In theory, at least. And in law, if nowhere else.

But no. Senior politicians don’t get dressed, if they are women. They “slip into.” Let’s imagine Enda Kenny or David Cameron “slipping into” their suits. Actually, no, let’s not. Anymore than we want to imagine Donald Trump doing his hair, or undergoing his daily Agent Orange spray-on.

Because unfortunately, politics continues to be showbiz for people not just ugly on the outside, but all the way through — whole parliaments filled with toxic sticks of rock. All the uglies on the inside, swarming all over each other, clawing each other’s eyeballs out, in their scramble for high office.

Okay, not all — there are probably still some human beings in there somewhere, like Bernie Sanders or Jeremy Corbyn or even bits of Angela Merkel — but for the most part, the seekers of power tend to seek power for reasons that might not be all about serving the people. I know. A shock, right?

But whatever their narcissistic, greed-crazed reasons for wanting to be in charge, let them at least do it equally. Let them march the corridors of power — all fangs and drool and hand-rubbing, signing documents to make us poorer and more cowed — marching as gender equals.

Hillary and Angela don’t do hemlines and necklines, for this very reason.

They do a pantone of pantsuits, solid blocks of colour that the media cannot sexualise. Like Mao, with expensive hair. This is what female politicians do in order not to have their appearances raked over by the grubby eyes and misogynist keyboards.

And so when you read in an actual newspaper about an actual 60-year- old politician “slipping into” a “slinky” garment, you are stopped in your tracks. That whirring noise is Mrs Pankhurst spinning underground.

Slipping into something slinky has no place in political commentary