With apologies to the Fast Show: but things have moved on quickly since then.
My name's Tommy Trotter and I work in Suit U Up, a shop in Jermyn Street where politicians have been coming for many years to have their suits made-to-measure.
You'll recognise our suits; either dark grey or dark-dark-black-grey, they are a little on the tight side, and they all feature a loose buttonhole mid-belly. The chaps who wear our suits get out of their ministerial car, stand up, and touch their belly-button (see what I did just there?) with their right hand, very lightly, to make sure that it hasn't come undone.
We (Philip, the business owner, and myself) felt that Tony B was a little on the ostentatious side with this gesture,but Dave C has copied him religiously (we laugh when we think how much Dave C fancies Tony B, but that's for another time) and now it's kind of got into the performance side of things alongside running their hands through their Brylcreem and surreptitiously wiping the excess on their hankies.
A woman in a red coat came in a few weeks ago with a bearded chap in a shell suit. I think her name was Diana Priest, or something, and she was trying to persuade the guy to buy a suit from us. He ran a finger over a bolt of our best mohair suiting and winced as though he'd been stung by a wasp, then shuddered. They went over to Subway pretty quickly and I could see them arguing.
Suits aren't for everyone, are they?