Cameron has the usual crick in his neck. Just the faintest sighting of the bald spot. His coiffure always nudges me to recall Reagan’s inaugural, and the comment about: “How can you trust a guy who stands there in a howling gale? Whose hair doesn’t move, but his neck does”. Cameron, like Reagan, is going brunet (that word again) as he ages.
Also in the frame, Lansley leads the House, all starry-eyed and wistful, somewhere in another world. Cleggers is spark out.
But the neckwear war, those in the doughnut position, behind the Front Bench, ought to require licences.