Calm after the storm: Sarah Burton arrives at the V&A for the McQueen exhbition (Picture: David M. Benett/Getty Images)
David M. Benett/Getty Images
The Alexander McQueen exhibition at V&A is thrilling in its setting and narrative. You start with a workmanlike tailor's dummy and end with such fireworks of the imagination that McQueen clearly could not have survived.
The mantra that "fashion is theatre" is embodied in McQueen. His inspiration came from mythology, art and romanticism, all stitched into frocks. It is dazzling but troubling. The faces are blanked out or encased in leather bondage or sprouting horns.
You cannot help but think the tortured designer flinched from humanity. After McQueen came the calm of his pupil Sarah Burton. She recreated the beauty but lost the torment. I admire the genuis of McQueen and am relieved Burton is no longer making fevered fantasies but just dresses.
Labour needs us to spend time with Ed
Yesterday's Standard poll had Ed Miliband as our most unpopular leader. Labour’s own research shows an initial public resistance to Miliband but once he has the public’s attention opinion changes. Something about those dark eyes wins trust.
It is why Labour will keep pushing for a TV debate. Without it, events will stack things against Miliband. The kitchen sink has already been thrown at him.
On Kitchengate, by the way, Miliband has admitted to bleakness rather than hypocrisy. His hidden downstairs kitchen, exposed by his friend Jenni Russell, is for the use of the nanny. It is a story of working parents rather than brutalist ideology.
My only added insight is that it looks less bleak in the context of being part of a living room. The walls at the front are full of pictures, books and toys.
All this adds to the problem that Miliband has with first impressions. The Labour slogan is a better plan for a better future — but it could also be “You would like him more if you knew him.”
Goodness knows how the BBC inquiry into the Jeremy Clarkson saga is taking shape because accounts at the weekend are full of contradictions and missing facts. Was he drinking or wasn’t he? How did a helicopter manage to take three hours over a relatively short distance?
Most baffling of all, are we to view Clarkson as a loveable dinosaur or just another needy television star in meltdown?
Is a week-long internal inquiry enough to get to the bottom of all this? Shouldn’t we be going for a Chilcot-like version?