Alison Rowat's week: Babe Ruth cuts dash in Vogue; no statues please, we're Scots; fun and games over birthday bash

DON’T just stand there let’s get to it, strike a pose, there’s nothing to it … Vogue!
I do not know if the photographer who shot Ruth Davidson for Vogue jollied her along by using Madonna’s lyrics. The face of the Scottish Conservatives leader tells its own story, one that begins with: “Why on Earth did I think this was a good idea? Now I’m picking my way down a cobbled street in Edinburgh in heels, with a coat that’s too big for me and a haircut that shrieks ‘1980s aerobics instructor’. Even the dog looks embarrassed. Honestly, the things a gal has to do to be Prime Minister one day.”
Relax, Ruthie. You are not the first leader of a Scottish political party to hear the siren call of Conde Nast. Nicola Sturgeon beat you to it by three years with a spread in the October 2015 issue. It can only be a matter of time before Willie Rennie rocks up in Vogue wearing Vivienne Westwood bondage trews. Richard Leonard, maybe not. I think the Scottish Labour chief is more of a chinos, Aldi flyer kind of guy.
I wonder if Ms Davidson said aye for the same reason Lynn, Alan Partridge’s assistant, succumbed in the film Alpha Papa. As you may recall, Lynn arrives at the radio station where Alan is being held hostage. Asked if she’ll do an interview for the telly,  she declines. “We’ll do your hair and make-up?” coos the producer. And with that Lynn is off into the make-up trailer, emerging half an hour later with wind tunnel hair and a face that wouldn’t look out of place on a Halloween cake. Been there, love, done that.
One might think elected representatives were above that kind of vanity, but who are we kidding? They are politicians. if every a breed was susceptible to the lure of the makeover it is that lot. Given the chance of becoming what they think will be a better looking version of themselves, they cannot resist. In the modern media age especially it is deemed not just desirable but essential to look one’s best.
The Peels, Disraelis and Gladstones never worry about presentation as their voices were never heard outside the rooms they spoke in, and their images were captured in paintings, sketches, or formal photographs. Come the arrival of television, politicians were forced to up their game. Like Hollywood stars of the silent era, they now had to talk the talk and look the part. Where the Kennedys led in America, others would inevitably follow.
Some adapted better than others. Nixon was a lost makeover cause. British leaders up to Callaghan made the white, male, middle-aged look their own; just as well because it was all they had. It was not until Margaret Thatcher came along that the political makeover truly came into its own. The woman who would become Britain’s first female PM was persuaded that to be more voter-friendly she had to lower her voice, fix her teeth, soften her hairdo and wear better clothes. Oh, and if there was a calf around that needed a cuddle, so much the better.
John Major went back to image basics, making a virtue out of appearing uninterested in anything other than getting on with the job in hand. We know how well that worked out. Such was Tony Blair’s love of looking good a parliamentary question was tabled asking how much he spent on slap and make-up artists. The answer? £1800 over six years. Though Gordon Brown, being a Scottish male of a certain age, was not given to fads, the influence of his wife Sarah, a former PR professional, could be seen in the sudden appearance of better haircuts, suits, and those unconvincing smiles that would appear from nowhere, like hailstone showers in summer.
Perhaps it was Gordon who made the matter of makeovers sensitive again. Now, a makeover has to be deeply ironic  (Jeremy Corbyn “pimped up” in a white fur coat to appear on the Channel 4 show The Last Leg), or carefully tailored not to offend. No £995 leather trousers, for a kick-off. Theresa May came a cropper because she was shot in the Downing Street flat clad head to toe in designer gear, as if this was how everyone lounged around. Not a good look in the age of austerity.
Ms Davidson and Ms Sturgeon, in contrast, look like they are playing dress up for a few hours and, like Cinderella after the clock strikes, they will be back to normal soon. It’s a bit of silliness. Any more of it, however, and it might start to look as if they were taking themselves too seriously.
Face it, the only makeover any politician can truly get away with isn’t done by Vogue. It is inescapable, happens to us all, and has a habit of cutting all egos down to size. Ladies, gentlemen, and Madonna, I give you getting older.