Except in this case, it all proved to be nonsense. The shirt Spencer was wearing was actually from a brand called Costa Brava and had been bought for £15 in Oxfam 15 years ago. This didn’t matter. Nor did it matter that Spencer literally used to work in that branch of Oxfam. The efficiency with which rage-baiters scrambled online to call out the hypocrisy of a socialist wearing a £2k shirt was almost impressive.
Now had it been Gucci, had it been worth that much, we might have been sympathetic to the rage. Few things demonstrate the economic gulf between the classes, between them and us, like fashion. Even as a Brit with minimal skin in the game, it was pretty galling to see Kamala Harris soliciting voters while wearing an 8-karat, yellow-gold $62k necklace from Tiffany and Co. But Hannah Spencer isn’t just another politician; she is a woman who left school at 16, trained as a plumber – and indeed remains a plumber – and against all odds won her seat in one of Labour’s safest strongholds. What’s more, this isn’t the first time she’s been targeted for her wardrobe.
As Spencer stood on stage in the early hours following her victory in February, you could have written the headlines yourself. From her energetically coiled hair to her fondness for colour blocking to her peppy waistcoats in various shades of Brat-green, her active styling – and it is active, because no one wakes up looking like that – could have been interpreted as a sign of meaningful change, of a new generation wading into the fray. Instead the idea that a woman can wear what she wants and be a politician was seen as an act of dissent and ultimately a threat to the establishment. In short, how dare she like clothes?
Andy Kelvin – PA Images/Getty Images
