Westminster candidates and their outfits of artless ordinariness

The political leaders' wardrobe during the election campaign could be described in one word: bland. Devoid of flourish, divested of tie and derelict of detail, the Westminster candidates have all favoured an utterly nondescript uniform of smart casual, in a palette of navy, black and grey. Even the traditional tie, once the most obvious signifier of a candidate's political leanings, has turned a murky shade of coalition sludge.

"Look ordinary. Blend in. Be normal." This has been the mantra for Messrs Clegg, Cameron and Miliband, each of whom have outdone one another in their attempts to sartorially underwhelm. The Easter bank holiday weekend saw all three gentleman wearing the exact same clothes - button-down blue shirt and navy sweater - to work the village fete brigade. The outfits shrieked: "I'm really accessible!"

Do not imagine for a moment that such artless ordinariness is not highly considered, that each tieless moment has not been meditated, each cuffed sleeve strategised and every crumple and crease subject to consultancy.

"The vanity of looking normal - the amount of effort to look that mundane," says Charlie Porter, the Financial Times's mens' fashion editor. "The Westminster candidates must have had more hair trims in the past month than most men have in a year."

Tyler Brule, FT columnist, magazine editor and architect of modern metropolitan elan, is similarly appalled by "this mire of mediocrity". He blames Washington, and the increasingly presidential style of election campaigning, for the absence of political individuality.

"American consultancies have left everyone looking the same," he says. "We have all the trappings of a US election - but without the long gestation period, thank God. It's taken on the same kind of visual language: so it's the sleeves up approach, it's the absence of a tie, it's the absence of any sort of dignity." Does he consider our leaders slovenly. "Absolutely. It looks sloppy."

It is perhaps not surprising, in an election where political ideology is increasingly centrist and muddy, that the leader's appearances should mirror the same lack of distinction. "If I were in charge of spin, you'd want to go in completely the other direction," Mr Brule says. "I would say, 'Put your tie on. Wear a waistcoat' . . . Just so that when you're flipping the channels you know you're looking at someone different."

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The 44-year-old leader of the Scottish National party has undergone a sartorial - and popular - revolution in recent weeks to emerge as the only real figure of interest in 2015. Ms Sturgeon's shedding of those dowdy box jackets, comfortable shoes (and a couple of stone in weight) in favour of a more tailored silhouette and stilettos has echoed the growing confidence with which she has lead her campaign. She has even attempted to improve on that god-awful haircut with a splash of bleach.

In fact, says Mr Brule, the god-awful haircut may be a clever strategic ruse. "She's gone for a 'safe hair-do'," he explains. "And a safe hair-do when it comes to female political leadership means you have to have a [Angela] Merkel mullet, because Merkel embodies a safe set of hands."

<>Whether consciously or not, Ms Sturgeon has adopted many of the German chancellor's stylings, and as polls increasingly suggest an SNP landslide in Scotland, the new look has suited her well.

'It was the hair wot won it' won't be the subject of any headline next Friday, but the follicular question has been subject to endless speculation during the campaign. And speaking personally, a great diversion from the tedium and lack of conviction exhibited during the debates.

The final word, however, should go to Mr Brule, who notes that in this most manufactured of elections, the leaders have left one key feature in a lamentable state: the eyebrow. "I mean, if you've gone the distance to make sure that you've got someone with a hair dryer and some shellac riding around with you then you might want to tend to your eyebrows at the same time," he says. "I'm not advising that someone needs to go to the brow bar at Fenwicks. I'm not even saying tweezers. But they could at least use some grooming scissors."

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