I remember offering some style advice to David Cameron last summer – the last time he chose to go on holiday in his work shoes, in fact – but he doesn't appear to have taken much notice. Odd.
Nor, it seems, has Nick Clegg. Both men were snapped on holiday with their wives yesterday wearing fixed grins and rather schizophrenic outfits, given the sunny climes to which they have both jetted off.
Cameron's dark blue shirt and indigo jeans complemented Samcam's simple chambray sundress perfectly. Together they were a symphony in blue, as harmonious in their colour palette as they are in their personal politics. But the Prime Minister looked like he'd be nipping back to the office at any moment.
His shirt sleeves were unrolled, his buttons fastened up like a garrotte, and those dreadful black brogues peeped out once again from under the table. No doubt they're fine for striding along the corridors of power, but they're less suited to a stroll on the beach, say. And that's before we take into consideration the fact that wearing black shoes with blue jeans is every bit as wrong as dismantling the NHS.
His wife Samantha's pristine white Birkenstocks looked positively bohemian in comparison. But listen! Is that the sound of a thousand pairs of gnashing false teeth as, nationwide, liberal orthopaedic fogies realise that the Tories have taken ownership of their favourite footwear?
Nick Clegg, meanwhile, is sunning himself at his in-laws' place in Spain, not that you'd know it from his navy chinos. He opted for a plain black shirt – more crumpled than Mussolini would have allowed – with the sleeves practically rolled up, ready for whenever he finally decides to start digging himself out of the enormous hole he has managed to get himself into.
The coyness continues among their European counterparts: French premier, François Hollande, at least nodded to the weather in a white shirt, but he too kept everything under wraps. Can we have Sarkozy and his swimming trunks back please? And when taking a break in Ischia, Italy, in April, Angela Merkel was sporting a neutral blouse and jumper combo – clearly she has been taking fashion tips from the Swiss.
We may wonder if the Prime Minister was a bit sweaty in his selvedge. Perhaps this garb is proof of Cameron's reptilian reputation – we already know, to our nation's detriment, that he is not a man who seems to feel the heat. And, even if he did, his Teflonic outer coating allows perspiration and political muck alike to simply slide off without leaving an unsightly stain.
Holiday Dave just can't win, it seems. In last year's photo, he was seen wearing a blue short-sleeved shirt, the last word in male sartorial cluelessness. This year at least he has opted for a full sleeve, but has forgotten that all-important flash of forearm that separates the playboys from the proletariat.
Then again, this year's photo is so unnervingly similar in composition and location to last year's that those sleeves have in all likelihood just been Photoshopped in by his press team, as Cameron suns himself in a pair of Speedos and sniggers at the deception. LOL, Dave – and I don't mean "lots of love".