Last week, my parliamentary colleague Peter Bone took exception to my conduct at PMQs. The Honourable Member for Wellingborough and I do not often see eye to eye, but on this occasion, the disagreement was not over a political issue, but a sartorial one. (Who says Brexit dominates the political agenda?)
Mr Bone took umbrage at my choice of tie, or rather lack thereof, when I tried to ask a question at Prime Minister’s Questions.
I can understand his concern. Now that the Speaker has confirmed that he will not discriminate against open-collared Members could this be the start of a slippery slope?
After all, if every male MP stopped wearing ties in the Commons, then Mr Bone would lose the opportunity to model his signature fluorescent green and black neckwear. But then again, he is (k)not adverse to breaking with traditions himself and was scolded last year by the Speaker for wearing a multi-coloured woolly hat in the Chamber (albeit for charity).
Was my tielessness at the forefront of my mind as I walked into the chamber? Not at all. I walked past the spare ties outside the press gallery without a second glance as I focused on the question I was going to ask: "Does the PM agree with her Chancellor or her Foreign Secretary on the best approach to Brexit."
But then, as Anna Soubry helpfully pointed out, women have gone tieless in the Commons for quite some time. They also have a much wider range of choice in what they can wear. Parliament discriminates against women in many ways—but this is one strange occasion where Parliament discriminates against men.
Many men required to wear a suit to work will be aware of the discomfort that summer can bring (unless they have the confidence to wear linen and look like the Man from Delmonte). Wearing a tie, which cuts off any air-circulation, only compounds this discomfort. That is why I wasn’t wearing one in my office when I left for the chamber.
I am very pleased to see that, as a result, the Speaker has confirmed—as he had indicated in a conversation a few days before—that he will be more flexible with the dress code in the future (although I won’t be turning up in my running gear just yet).
There is a serious point to make here. Parliament should be representative of the people it serves. I am pleased that the 2017 election has produced the most diverse parliament to date—but it has a lot further to go to be truly representative.
When people watch clips of Parliament on the news and they see a chamber full of men in dark suits and ties, do they see a legislature that they feel reflects them? Or are they more likely to see a remote chamber where the real decisions are taken in back rooms?
The tyranny of the tie has been progressively rolled back since the early days of Silicon Valley, where a more casual dresscode was no barrier to business. Clerks in the House no longer wear wigs and Members can bring their babies into the Chamber. It was about time Parliament followed suit on this issue as well.
I don’t think it “reduces the esteem” of parliament by not continuing with certain traditions on no other basis than the fact that they are traditions—in fact getting rid of some of the fussier and ridiculous practices of ‘the mother of all parliaments’ may help people connect more with the place where their laws are made. In other words, perhaps it’s time to ditch the Members’ snuff?