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Dress-down Dave is such a big faker.

Byline: Brian Reade

WHAT a shame it now appears the flip-flopping Fauntleroy is going to wear tails to the Abbey instead of a lounge suit.

I was looking forward to Cameron's original decision to turn up for the biggest royal occasion for decades in an off-the-peg River Island number because I couldn't wait to see what else was planned for Dave's Big Fat Phoney Wedding: Re-wrapping an unopened set of British Home Stores scales as the present? Getting drunk and telling Kate's dad: "Our Wills ish too bleedin' good for your girl, pal."

Taking the clingfilm off the buffet before 10pm and pinching the gala pie, dragging the Queen between his legs for Oops Upside Your Head and grabbing the mic off the DJ to start a Sinatra sing-song, before chucking up the pie in the back of a cab? Had any of that happened we'd have heard about it. Because the consuming obsession of a Prime Minster who lives in a different world from 95% of the electorate is convincing us he doesn't. It's kidding us we're All In It Together. It's lying that he's One Of Us.

It's patronising us to within an inch of our unprivileged lives.

Why did he take his wife on Ryanair to a three-star hotel for her 40th birthday, when everyone knows if he weren't Prime Minister he'd rather dip his member in a bath of acid than mingle with the budget hordes? The reported morning suit U-turn is yet another example of his acute personality disorder. He initially ditched tails in case we thought he was a toff. He then found out ordinary people quite like to look like toffs at weddings, hence many working-class fathers of the bride investing their life savings in a top hat do.

So he became paranoid about being viewed as an inverted snob and flipped again. So, tails it is. Or is it heads? Isn't it time Cameron took a long look in his hand-gilded mirror and realised who he is? Someone who went to an exclusive prep school, then Eton and Oxford, is related to the Queen and married a woman whose family owns a chunk of Yorkshire.

Someone whose connections landed him plum jobs which allowed him to climb the greasy pole to the top of a party that is called Conservative (meaning disposed to conserving existing conditions) for a reason. Aching to be permanently perceived as an Ordinary Joe doesn't make him look modern, just weak and insecure.

As much as I despised his idol, Thatcher, she never tried to make us think she was anything but herself. She made it plain she was an aspirational social climber who couldn't stand the plebs she'd left behind. At least that was honest.

Here's the best image advice you're going to get Prime Minister: Stop trying to convince us that you're not who you are.

We realised when we first met that you weren't like us, and we'd like it to stay that way.

Because if we're going to be led by a Tory B'stard, we'd prefer it if it wasn't an insincere, petrified and patronising Tory B'stard.


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Title Annotation:Features; Opinion, Column
Publication:The Mirror (London, England)
Date:Apr 21, 2011
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