DAVID Cameron posed with a mug of tea this week. Was an assistant carrying a disposable grande latte, we may wonder, recalling how his bicycle was once followed by an official car.
Then, the Conservative leader was stressing his green credentials; this time Mr Cameron was wooing middle-class mothers.
The photograph appeared in Red magazine and was followed up in many newspapers. In the accompanying interview, he talked adori
ngly of his wife, saying: "Sam is a brilliant mother" and a "fantastic businesswoman". Political strategists call this the "Sam factor" and hope it will play well with female voters.
The approach echoes the famously mug-wielding Tony Blair in more than crockery. Mr Blair stressed family life to impress the electoral target known as "Worcester woman", and analysts say this picture confirms Mr Cameron also prizes mums juggling work with kids. I say it reveals far more. Mr Cameron's mug shot was nothing less than the first glimpse of the Tories' entire election strategy.
Look closely at how he is holding his drink. His fingers are clasped around the mug, rather than gripping its handle. If that tea is newly poured, he must have heat-proof palms. Or he is stifling agony and will drop that mug faster than an unpopular policy when the shoot is over.
More likely, the tea is tepid and half-finished – like virtually every mug ever drunk by busy mothers, who all suffer "cuppas interruptus", and who are the target of the interview.
And that's the key – such attention to detail tells us Mr Cameron is set to use Britain's favourite beverage in a subliminal campaign to persuade all voters that the Tories are their cup of tea.
The strategy is easily adapted. In Saga magazine, he will pose with tea and a digestive. Campaigning for the Indian vote, he will drink Darjeeling. In white working-class areas, he will add two sugars. Among students, he'll dunk a fair-trade teabag; in bohemian villages, he'll infuse organic peppermint leaves; and in the shires, he will take afternoon tea with finger sandwiches while being polite about the doilie. The Tory old guard will be satisfied: they urge Mr Cameron to be more like Mrs T, and, lo, he's becoming Mr Tea. And should Labour call all this a sly bid to brainwash voters, the Tories can retort: "That's the pot calling the kettle black."
Aside from its revelation of campaign strategy, the photo contains other positive political messages. By choosing tea, not coffee, Mr Cameron subtly reminds us he is not Mr Bean. Gordon Brown is. And his tea is in a mug, that most masculine of crockery, for Mr Cameron is too savvy to pose holding a teacup. That introduces the pinkie problem – extension is effeminate – and a cup would require a saucer, and possibly a teaspoon, risking photographers catching him in an attitude which could be captioned: David Cameron, with a silver spoon in his mouth. Oh no.
Mr Blair's mantra was once "education, education, education". Mr Cameron's will be "hydration, hydration, hydration". It is a simple strategy to refresh an electorate befuddled by complex funding scandals, and it is little short of political genius. For there's nothing more quintessentially British than sipping tea and, even better, it means the Tories can say the next election is in the bag.
Quick on the draw, or a real drag? MARLBORO Intense is the new snack-sized cigarette for faster fag breaks. The Intense promises the same high in half the time for puffers banished to the street by smoking bans. Can a fag company get it so wrong?
"Smirting" – smoking and flirting – is now the way to meet the opposite sex. There's hot action out there in the cold, Marlboro, and you've got the wrong end of the stick. Develop a drawn-out smoke for extra "smirting" time, and call it the Marlboro Chill. And how about a nicotine-free fag for people who just want to smirt? If you call it a Marlboro Like, real puffers might not even notice as us non-smokers get out there to pick up some sexy butts.
• Yes! And it's a penalty for the England manager! In the annals of implausible utterances by Scots football fans, this one is up there. But you may soon be saying those very words.
Fabio Capello is being investigated for suspected tax evasion in Italy. He denies it, and initially one merely chuckles at a new manager suffering problems with net gains so early in his England career. But then – realisation comes of what a fight against allegations could mean. Fabio might have to concentrate on some fancy financial footwork. He may take his eye off the ball. And it could make England weaker opponents when they play Scotland. If found guilty, he faces a hefty fine. Scots should greet the news he's up for this penalty with delight.
President's marriage is a suite dream for Royal visit"ENFIN," cried the French, as Nicolas Sarkozy, their president, married Carla Bruni. Now Mr Sarkozy can return to affairs of state, not the heart. The French economy is on its knees – thanks to le rogue trader – while the president was… well, who knows.
The nuptials also avoid a Royal upset, we learn. At Windsor Castle, valets feared Ms Bruni might pitch up on next month's state visit without a ring on her finger.
What does one do with a political WAG, they were muttering, if she is not yet the wife but still the girlfriend? Should she sleep in the same suite as Mr Sarkozy? Should the divans of Windsor be so sullied? Le shotgun wedding has saved an excruciating exchange between butler and monarch along the lines of: "Ma'am, the head frog is bringing a hussy. What shall we do with her?"
I suspect the Queen would have been more aghast at Mr Sarkozy's teetotalism than his totty. Sex before marriage is one thing. Tonic without gin another entirely.
The full article contains 1008 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
