What not to wear: The Debate edition
By Allyson Kenning
A huge dilemma came up in my life last night: the English language leaders debate for the election was on the same night as the season finale of What Not to Wear. I love What Not to Wear. For me, each episode is a veritable treasure trove of information I store away in my little brain for a day when I can actually afford clothing and shoes that haven’t come from second hand stores or Wally World in the States (home of the $1 t-shirt and $3 capris), and make-up whose colour scheme harkens back to the 90s. I’d like to think that once I am a rich and famous writer with $5000 to throw around that I would do the folks on WNtW proud with the fashion savvy I gained from watching their show.
On the other hand, I’m interested in politics and like to remain politically aware by keeping up-to-date with what the party big wigs are saying even if I think they are all liars. I like to exercise my under-used but hard-earned critical thinking skills while listening to a group of middle-aged white men vie for the privilege of deciding the fate of my hard-earned money, and the hard-earned money of other people who are not middle aged, white, and male.
So it was a tough call. Do I watch a make-over show that focuses on building self-esteem and confronting body image issues while I salivate enviously over someone else’s luck at being granted a New York City shopping spree with two fashion experts I’d kill to spent 5 minutes discussing my jeans with, or do I spent two hours being a dutiful citizen, keeping myself politically informed like I believe everyone should be in times like these, but be bored literally to tears with endless rhetoric and sound bites even though I’ve already decided who I’m going to vote for?
Thank God for time zones and eastern satellite feeds! I got to watch both. The debate was over just in time for me to catch WNtW. While watching the debate, however, I couldn’t help but anticipate the upcoming episode of WNtW, and in fact, I couldn’t help but wonder what Stacy and Clinton (the hosts) would say about what the federal leaders were wearing and what that said about them.
Obviously, these are men. They are required to wear that ubiquitous male uniform, the suit. No strappy heels in a neutral tone, elongating their legs in dark pencil skirts, paired with a fitted blazer, combined with some chunky jewelry for them! No way. Instead, it seemed to me that three of the four leaders desperately needed a bit of help from Stacy and Clinton because they were dressed so stuffily, so uninterestingly that it almost made me want to cry.
While not appalling, their choices in attire left a lot to be desired. Stephen Harper, Jack Layton, and Michael Ignatieff all sported jackets in funereal tones that were the sartorial equivalent of a wicked antihistamine. Their ties were similarly snooze-inducing. Harper’s was a very conservative red and white affair, suitable for a wake. Layton wore a yellow and blue tie that had stripes on almost the exact same diagonal as Harper’s, and though it was slightly more risqué in colour, it did nothing for his complexion. Ignatieff didn’t even try. His tie was the worst of all, being a plain, boring old red. Such lack of effort and inspiration, I imagined Stacy and Clinton saying, could only indicate that the man had given up on himself and that a total purging of his wardrobe would be the only way of yanking him out of the fashion doldrums.
So, essentially, these three men all resembled the proverbial stuffed shirts. They looked like they wanted to play it safe; they looked bland and pedestrian. And that’s pretty much how I felt about their performances in the debate.
But there was a fourth participant, Gilles Duceppe.
I have always enjoyed watching Gilles in debates; he comes out of the gates full throttle, he’s always the best prepared, he always has a great comeback, and he knows how debate in an engaging, meaningful way. He also knows how to dress! It’s true, the song lyric that states “every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.” Whoever dresses that guy deserves a medal. In last night’s debate, he wore a striped grey blazer that screamed “I have it going on, people.” And his tie! It made me want to cry, too, but in a good way. It had a very interesting pattern on it that had no stripes, but rather a spade-like shape superimposed over a more delicate symmetrical design reminiscent of a Gothic cross. It was the shizz.
Standing alongside the other three, it looked bold, it was interesting, and it made him look like a well-honed chef’s knife next to a trio of tea spoons. If I could cast a vote for him, I would do it on his clothing choice tonight alone.
Tonight is the French language debate. This is also the night I watch Survivor. There will be no potential scheduling conflicts to worry about. But I have a feeling it won’t matter because I have the distinct feeling it will be just as boring as last night’s debate, except for Gilles’ suit, of course.
That alone might warrant a few moments of my time.
