Why on earth would the Sunaks give an interview to a women’s magazine?

It shows how hard up the Conservatives are if they think that the Prime Minister and his wife are going to score any points anywhere by revealing who stacks the dishwasher (Rishi) and straightens the bed in the morning (Rishi again).

On Tuesday, March 5, 2024, The Guardian‘s John Crace, someone whom I rarely quote, nailed the interview and its objective (emphases mine):

We are now in the Tunnel. That political parallel universe in which everything and nothing happens. You can take your pick. The news schedules are busier than ever but are forgotten within hours. Because nothing really matters. We are now on a rinse, spin and repeat cycle that will only end in a general election. Where the debate gets ever more extreme yet somehow less substantial. Most people have long since switched off. You can almost hear their screams of, ‘Make it stop’.

Just count the days. Breathe deeply. Squeeze in an extra pilates session. Anything to distract yourself. Be of good comfort. The end is getting ever closer.

How can we be sure? Because Rish! has just done a video for Grazia. The inevitable kiss of death. You know there is no way out now. This is the fate of every party leader with an election imminent. But there is no comeback. Once sold, your soul can never be redeemed.

You can read the Grazia interview and see a video here. I won’t be able to stomach it, so here is Crace’s summary:

This is the Sunaks relaxing at home together. Or rather Rish! and Akshata staring miserably into a camera while sitting on a sofa. A more excruciating five and a half minutes would be hard to find. You can see the look of death behind Rish!’s eyes. Even he – someone notoriously unself-aware – knows this is a video too far. But then he’s come too far to back down now. The wheels are spinning far too fast for him to get off now. All he can do is wait till they stop. Only then will he discover where he’s been spat out.

So he smiles and smiles and smiles. And still he doesn’t come close to warmth or sincerity. It is the icy smile of a man praying that his wife doesn’t land him in it. Because Akshata, at least, still seems up for it.

No one has told her there are no winners in this latest PR stunt. The best you can hope for is to come out unscathed. Either she is terminally bored with her life and finds mind-numbingly dumb questions a merciful release. Or she is a stunningly good actor.

We discover the Indian billionnaire’s daughter had a penchant for eating in bed, although it seems that Rishi eased her out of that bad habit:

Let’s start with the chores. Who makes the bed? Definitely not me, said Akshata. Full of energy, totes engaging with this. “I’m not a morning person. At college, Rish! – she’s even adopted my nickname for him – would come round and I’d still be in bed eating.”

A straightened bed sets the day up correctly. Here, too, the PM takes charge:

“Er, yes,” Sunak interrupted. This was too much information. Time to take control of the narrative. He really, really cared about bed-making. So much so that he would sometimes interrupt a meeting of the cabinet to go upstairs to the Downing Street flat to make sure it was done properly.

Rishi also controls the stacking of the dishwasher:

How about loading the dishwasher? Rish! dived in. This was also very much his territory. He happened to also really, really care about this. If it wasn’t done properly, he would empty it and start again.

The couple appear to be loving parents:

How about the children? Akshata was quite strict with them about their schoolwork, but otherwise wasn’t that bothered. Rish! liked to give them snacks. Bless. But he also wished they would walk the dog from time to time.

Unbelievably, they unwind to an episode of Friends just before bedtime. Dear, oh dear:

Rish! didn’t have time to read. So bedtime was the same episode of Friends over and over again.

The Telegraph‘s Tim Stanley had a few more soundbites for us:

The result is a video of the handsome couple on a sofa, Akshata in blue, Rishi casually dressed down in shirt and tie. Body language experts will say they’re in love. They sit close, Rishi looking at her with goofy, wide-eyes …

Grazia justified this Terry and June profile with some woke fem spin: “Women, on average, do 65 per cent of the housework in heterosexual relationships” …

Rishi, one slowly realises with a sinking heart, does both. It is Rishi who does the dishes best. Rishi who tidies up the No10 bedroom. “I actually sometimes come up back into the flat… to make the bed, because I’ll be irritated if it’s not made.” (It’s “one of his special skills”, beams Mrs PM).

As for “meal planning”, Rishi “lays the structure”, while Akshata “fills in” …

The PM’s passive aggression is balanced by his wife’s marvellous “couldn’t care less” attitude – there’s a girl who likes getting caught in the rain – captured in a moment of tension about eating in bed. Akshata admits to doing it. Rishi looks like he’s about to heave.

The Times‘s Carol Midgley revealed that Grazia‘s spread was in advance of International Women’s Day:

I should probably clarify here that [Akshata] Murty used to eat in bed. Until, it appears, Sunak put a stop to it. But in an interview the couple recorded for Grazia she admitted that when they were students she used to leave plates in the bed too …

But never mind that. The bigger question is why have the prime minister and his wife chosen to “open up” about their domestic chores? Ostensibly it’s for International Women’s Day but we all know it’s because there’s a whiff of “general election” in the air, launching the desperate scramble for politicians to seem “normal”. Which always backfires …

Rishi does not want his two daughters to grow up with any food phobias:

… the way the PM wants his children to eat meals with “one protein, one carb, one veg”.

Interestingly, Akshata is not entirely on board with her husband’s teetotalism:

No G&T for him. He once said it “massively irritates” his wife that he doesn’t drink.

I cannot blame her in the slightest on that score. I could not have married a non-drinker.

However, on the other side of the aisle, we have Lord Mandelson, dubbed ‘the Dark Lord’ of the Blairite years, giving diet tips to Labour’s Sir Keir Starmer, who looks every inch the dad — a bit flabby — unlike Rishi, who still looks like the head boy he was at Winchester.

On March 5, 2024, The Times reported, ‘Shed a few pounds, Peter Mandelson tells Keir Starmer’, which also includes advice for the PM:

As leader of the opposition, Sir Keir Starmer is hungry for power — but one of New Labour’s big beasts has urged him to “shed a few pounds”.

“That would be an improvement,” Lord Mandelson said on the Times Radio podcast How to Win an Election — adding, to be “even-handed”, that Rishi Sunak could improve his presentation too.

Shadow health secretary Wes Streeting took exception to Mandelson’s comments:

The advice for Starmer received short shrift from Wes Streeting, the shadow health secretary, who said he was “against that kind of fat-shaming”. Streeting told LBC: “Peter should know better. We have seen the odd paunch from [him] over the years … people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”

The article explained Starmer’s food evolution from long-time vegetarian to occasional meat-eater:

Starmer, who was a vegetarian for almost 30 years, told the Table Manners podcast in July last year: “We don’t have meat or fish in the house, we don’t cook it.”

His children were raised as vegetarians but allowed to choose their own paths after turning ten; his son has since developed a taste for KFC, while his daughter continues to eschew meat.

Starmer, who now eats fish, has confessed to other momentary exemptions. A biography by Tom Baldwin tells of a journey home on the last train to London from Sheffield when Starmer was shadow Brexit secretary.

He said he was handed a takeaway box, adding: “I opened it sitting on a freezing-cold station platform and found it was chicken. I wasn’t going to get anything else at that time of night, so I ate every morsel — and very good it tasted too.”

As for Rishi, Lord Mandelson suggests less sartorial skinniness:

The prime minister, who often wears short trousers, a slim-fitting suit and skinny tie, was accused by Mandelson of choosing outfits that “diminish him rather than expand him”.

Gay eye for the straight guy, there.

The Times‘s fashion editor adds:

Any stylist will tell you that too much fabric on a short, slender frame is liable to cloak rather than complement. Rishi Sunak’s on the right track with his lean silhouettes, but he always takes it too far (Harriet Walker, fashion editor, writes).

It isn’t just the Savile Row prices of Sunak’s suits that must feel eye-watering. There’s nothing wrong with a skinny suit on a skinny man, but a skinny tie as well is overkill — especially when Sunak’s suits are so scant and spare, he often looks as though he has grown out of them.

The fact all his trousers are exaggeratedly short in the leg does nothing for the overall impression he gives as being overly boyish, and the skinny ties only add to the gawkiness. Sunak and his suits often appear to have the problem as the chancellor does in his budgets: not enough wiggle room.

Suits or Grazia, does any of this even matter any more?

It’s all immaterial. In fact, I cannot bear to watch political programmes outside of BBC Parliament at the moment.