Dictates

   In a trickle of hours, the GBP will have decided on the face that will be held responsible for its ills next. No matter the platforms offered, the glib slogans crafted, Politics will never truly offer something for everyone. This is a relief - to extend such a universal appeal to the world would render the system boring and wanting in what it thrives on: disagreement, conflict, uneven playing fields and manipulation. After a fashion, it's my kind of game

   Under the remit of this column, the sartorial facilities of the candidates bear no scrutiny - they're fit for the pristine surfaces of appearance that all media friendly corners of the 21st century proffer to society. Why pay attention to any or all of the party leaders when you can be diverted by the matching sheen of their ties to that of their overly effective hair product? No PR officer could convert this into a Good Thing

   With that in mind, I am not here to judge the policies of the World's Last Well Dressed Politicians; you have liberal newspapers for that. But I prefer world stage representation to be in something other than questionable bespoke or a High Street premature shot. The most favourable examples have a number of drawbacks, however; not least that they are all from times past and have a tendency to be soaked in blood and rumpus

In another life, I would likely have been his nephew

   El Hadj Omar Bongo Ondimba, who died last June following a heart attack and a short struggle against the cancer - or was it another incurable? - may have been the most stylish of this continent's politicians to have lived. Consistency ensured that he remained so even after the 1970s, my personal golden age of black style, had concluded and lent its remains to enduring mockery from future, less dynamic generations

   The frequency of Gabon on my radar has increased since Ghana's 2007 oil discovery; as I continue to acquaint myself with its socio-political nuances, I've started to consider the exertions on local and governmental African life that the resource represents. Nigeria? Thank you, but I prefer my oil rich neighbours to be of the Francophone variety

   Beyond the very obvious reason for an interest in African leaders, I am perennially interested in how they inspire admiration, love and fealty amongst the ordinary citizens they rule. By all accounts, Bongo was quite the incarnation of charisma, or perhaps I'm simply conflating that with power. From one tiny sub-Saharan country, he wielded a strength and influence in France that was normally reserved for dignitaries who were officially empowered there

   He was also stylish, in the sense that his non-model shape posed absolutely no barrier to a great taste in clothing and the nous to wear it. Like other post-colonial African leaders who at one point wished to remove all visual signifiers of their European yokes, he adopted the Mao suit, albeit alongside Western traditional tailoring that was worn as elegantly as his bespoke French cuts, which, during his first decade in power, paid slight lip service to the unorthodox detailing of the time. He and his entourage were exceedingly well served in Paris - Valentino would have them personally escorted during their excursions:

   Sharing a more direct relationship with my people was Félix Houphouët-Boigny, the Cote d'Ivoirian leader who aided in the ousting and exile of legendary independence-era Ghanaian president Kwame Nkrumah. The Sage of Africa, as he was known, favoured the aureate life, amassing as he did a sizeable personal fortune, shares in jewelry firms and urbane Parisian property holdings. Amongst his varied, swank displays of wealth, he funded the construction of the world's largest church and held a particular fondness for sculpted gold

   Houphouët-Boigny's leadership imbued the Cote d'Ivoire with outstanding prosperity during the bulk of his incumbency. His own relationship with France was a cornerstone of his national and foreign policies, influencing facets of his involvements across the entire continent. Indeed, he remains fondly remembered in his homeland, meriting the nickname of "The Wise," and also holds the dubious post-mortem distinction of appearing on a Lil Wayne record sleeve - but then, what is life without a little indelicacy?

   Françafrique Mode, indeed

   The markedly authoritarian and dictatorial Mobutu Sese Seko of Zaire was known for successfully courting generous sums of foreign aid, policies that ultimately did the DRC little favours, public executions, kleptocracy and rather capricious opinions of his allies such as the United States. He was also known for his signatures of toques and tortoiseshell eyeframes, alongside a curious taste in leisure suits. Other purported proclivities included regular travel with a money-filled Louis Vuitton suitcase, Concorde chartering for regular Paris shopping junkets and flying in his hairdresser from New York to a personally commissioned airport in his birth village, where he had also built a palace:

www.blessit.com

   Haiti's late President for Life, Francois Duvalier, infused an extra dimension to his own vicious consolidations of power through his study and public acknowledgment of voodoo traditions and its houngan and bokò practitioners - Baron Samedi became something of a muse. Who knows what his decisions cost his loa; it is estimated that 30,000 political deaths were enabled during his presidency. He too treated himself to ill-gotten finery in his time:

   Finally, I submit as bonuses:

Jean-Bédel Bokassa of Central Africa, a Napoleon fetishist, alleged cannibal and owner of the world's most expensive shoes; a pair of bespoke pearl-studded Berlutis for his coronation, gifted to him by the French government

Francisco Franco

Kwame Nkrumah and Haile Selassie

Patrick Hurley, Chiang Kai-Shek and Mao Tse Tung

A monument to former Turkmenistan President for Life, Saparmurat Niyazov

   The United Kingdom may never quite approach such ostentation or indulgence of the self, nor would it be essential for it to do so. And it is preferable for a myriad of reasons that such leaders remain sui generis. But out of the lasting impressions these men have left on me, an old, persistent truism arises: "Aren't all the best fascinations paradoxical?"

Cigars to Bill, LK and Lasbar at StyleForvm

These Popular Cultural Things

•    To begin, Godspeed, Lynn Redgrave. I'll always recall Gods and Monsters and The Virgin Soldiers with a certain fondness

•    To the surprise of few, the Doctor has raised bow tie sales, albeit of the pre-tied kind - again, to the surprise of few. At least Matt Smith's choice in decorative neckwear is emblematic of the character he is currently crafting and honing to increasing approbation each week; Élan will not easily be acquired by his followers, but it will be entertaining to peruse the results

•    Turnbull & Asser, perhaps in search of the potent tastemaking cachet they previously wielded in the past through engendering the career of Michael Fish and providing haberdashery to 007, opted to seat Pharrell Williams as a collaborator in shirt design. Pondering the timepiece print, the design and the questionable pricing, my thoughts are thus: "Cui bono?"
  

The watch so happens to be upside-down

•    I rather like the look of Shanghai's Expo 2010, featuring Singing Jackie Chan. Spectacle done well can often enthrall me:

Gwen Guthrie - 'Hopscotch' (Larry Levan Remix) (1983)

Why worry about protean weather when we have disco?

Square Linen

JCrew

   Linen pocket squares are never far from my jackets; certainly not since the collection I built in a single afternoon’s perusing at Hackett’s 2009 sample sale. Naturally, my favourite was the first to disappear, possibly when airing it out became a tad literal

   I derive some of my fun from texture mixing and linens complement most jacketing fabrics that come to mind. Their rumpling properties don’t prohibit puffing; nevertheless, they are mainly built for the folding varieties, which are stable as long as one’s breast pocket does not allow too much slack – this you will uncover when the edge of the square begins to gently flap up and down your chest

   Retailers are not numerous but they are out there; the most desirable are offered by the likes of Kent Wang, Sam Hober, Drakes and San Francisco's renowned Cable Car Clothiers. The stalwarts of Jermyn Street are known to offer them, albeit in irregular supply. Sam Hober also thoughtfully provides a simple yet edifying care guide

   The uber-versatile white Irish Linen square is something of a benchmark in this milieu but any tastefully coloured combination with a contrasting, hand rolled edge, such as my departed fuchsia and navy, is as valid and certainly more vivid for that impish/impudent approach to classic suiting

Pledge This

   Theoretically, it's to one's advantage when childhood friends embark on musical paths, so as to request of them, "Remember me when you're a goddamned rock star someday"

   Today, dear Tallulah Rendall is that friend for me. She's very good; more enchanting, off kilter and alluring than your average Girl With a Guitar. And her ethic cannot be underestimated. And so, I'm only to happy to create a post composed of some of her music and a link that details her quest to fund both the completion of her second album and creative endeavours by various artistic collaborators that will be inspired by individual songs from the record. Indeed, if like attracts like, then the visual aspect alone will be worth the contribution

   I've always been fond of the phrase, "Grass Roots Movement," and as for promotion, of self or otherwise, well... Mode Parade exists, no? Let's see if we can't bring this to life

http://www.pledgemusic.com/projects/tallulahrendall

Re-framed

   Even in Accra, I can occasionally cast a look at the eyeframe wares of certain "status" designers whose security is shored up by the prepotency of luxury conglomerates. "I paid this much; I know I got the best!" is not a considered stance to take with one such as I, rarely capable as I am of holding back and able to gracelessly break all but the most well made of sunglasses. Every time I popped the left lens into my old Ray Ban aviators 3 years ago, I would ponder that Luxottica have much to answer for

   Good craftsmanship is that which I cannot irreparably ruin, these days. Give some of these much advertised pieces six months and the hinges of these desirable commodities will have an ease of movement comparable to that of a swing door; an unpopular analogy I'm always ready to deliver to their owners. No wonder they usually respond by attempting to pocket my own

   I like to seek out current eyeframes of quality; Colette normally has an interesting selection of brands to proffer its clientele. I've recently been recommended Thierry Lasry's offerings, which, like particular eyewear lines that promise an attention to quality, are said to be handmade; Lasry's native France is his fabrication ground. His output has not gone unnoticed beyond its consumption; indeed, the Institut Français de la Mode presided over by Pierre Bergé, Yves Saint Laurent's former partner, appointed Lasry as its industry consultant to its students when it branched into eyewear creation in 2008. Lasry's unusual vision of high-class, 1970s-derived frames has also made him a darling within Los Angeles' mode circles. In a nod to his surname, the name of each frame ends in 'y':

Battery

Attracty

Spready

Vulgary

   Ralph Vaessen also holds some interest - less for his designs and more for his atelier's handcrafting in buffalo horn, which, at the very least, allows him to command a luxury price point and offer lightweight, firm creations. The Dutchman favours relative simplicity and familiar styling: certainly, his is a line for those under the unfortunate categorisation of "stealth wealth":

Spyker

Katarina

   Rapp Limited, originating from Toronto, is also created and hand finished by an atelier operation. The product is rather clinical yet vivid in its presentation; a type to suit superficially detached gallerists and architects, perhaps. Like Cutler and Gross, I think they do very well to promote an expensive form of geek chic:

Burt

Both via Vintage Frames Company

3374

Rosalind

Franca

   With such detailing and assurances, I look forward to trying out these brands in person once I'm ready to resume my itinerancy

The Stephanie Rushton Portrait Shoot Bonus

www.stephanierushton.com

Psych Couture

That Heat

   I hate summer time

   It has precisely little value outside of its voyeuristic cachet. The mixture of loss of inhibitions and sensible practicality that leads to pleasing feminine visions also results in disgusting visuals of cross-gender partial nudity that gouge into the mind for the longest time. Lord knows why you all love to throw your clothes off and cavort around open spaces, frolicking without the mess


   I have an outstanding request from one reader to advise on dressing for intemperate climes such as the one we share here in Accra. Presently, the sun has rendered me insensible; there's an ice cream headache waiting for me whenever I move to overturn these circumstances in my favour. Yes, I have air conditioning. And yes, it consistently gives me a nasty cold


   For the sake of my aesthetic theory, there are usually few photographs of my summerwear; to dress for the occasion, I normally sport something elegant in black that also functions as a fitting expression of self:

   All in all, I’d rather be in Iceland


   However, request my presence at a gathering with a British Summer Time theme and the topmost photo is the result. It's intended as pastiche only, with the mode owing more than minimal guidance to the photographic submissions section of The Chap. My ramie Junya Watanabe jacket, one of the few lightweight designs that can be comfortably sported above 25 degrees, deserves better than such purposeful irony. The artifice makes it wrinkle faster


   One's summer jacket is a garment for pleasure because your dress options remain open. That Panama, the linen scarf, the silk neckerchief, the correspondents, the open-necked psychedelic shirt, the tasteful eyeframes, the go-to-Hell trousers in M&M palettes; it's a framework that has lasted almost a century but there's a protean manner of stretching it if one loves a challenge


   For all my scepticism, I like the idea that summer is a two or so month-long Traffic Light Party for gentlemen. Consider it; sun and insensibility - what else should encourage a sartorial frolic in primary colours?


   I'll be going Green