Ed Cumming

In the video, two middle-aged English men cruise around Bangkok in the back of a tuk-tuk, eating snacks and looking for attention. Nothing new there, you might think. A decent chunk of the Thai capital’s nighttime economy is geared towards middle-aged Western men on business trips. The difference is that in this case, the two men are John Healey, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Ed Miliband, the Foreign Secretary – a couple of cringelords on the lam.

In the video, two middle-aged English men cruise around Bangkok in the back of a tuk-tuk, eating snacks and looking for attention.

Posting forlornly about being “let go” from a role is nothing new on social media. Indeed, it is a mainstay of LinkedIn, and often comes shortly before a post advertising that the poster is “open for work”.

After a lifetime exercising his judgment in the service of films, actors, brands and parties, Charles Finch at last has a physical premises that can be a perfect expression of his taste. Nestled among the galleries and ateliers on Cork Street behind Savile Row, Mayfair, Bar Finch is a haven inspired by the man’s life and interests.

Bravery in politics takes many forms. On Tuesday morning, Kemi Badenoch may have become the first leader of a major party to give a speech dressed in dark and light brown. Brown is “in”, I am assured, but I wonder if she was trying to signal to our subconscious: for a prime minister who delivers, trust the woman who could take off her jacket and go to work for UPS.

BRAVERY in politics takes many forms. Yesterday morning, Kemi Badenoch may have become the first leader of a major party to give a speech dressed in dark and light brown.

This week, Andy Burnham alighted on one of those rare policies guaranteed to enjoy near-unanimous support: fining “ headphone dodgers ” on trains.

This week, the Prime Minister alighted on one of those rare policies guaranteed to enjoy near-unanimous support: fining "headphone dodgers" on trains.

On a grey, wet Monday morning, clutching umbrellas and hunched under their hoods, pedestrians stepped gingerly into London's Oxford Street, like fawns testing a newly frozen river.

ON A GREY, wet Monday morning, clutching umbrellas and hunched under their hoods, pedestrians stepped gingerly into London's Oxford Street, like fawns testing a newly frozen river.