In an unprecedented spectacle that would make even the most seasoned theatre-goer envious, the Parliament convened yesterday to discuss the latest trends in political pantomime, a development that should surprise absolutely no one. Dressed to the nines in their finest costumes, MPs from all sides took to the floor, not for debates on pressing national issues, but to showcase their allegiance to the newest styles of political grandstanding. The session was kicked off by leading fashionista and Prime Minister, who strutted into the chamber wearing a bespoke suit tailored from the finest political spin, complete with a lapel pin shaped like a pie chart. "Fashion is power, and what more powerful fashion statement could there be than pretending to care about the citizens we are supposed to represent?" they declared, drawing wild applause that echoed in the cavernous hall—mostly from the snooty gallery of political influencers who'd come for the performance rather than to witness democracy in action. Opposition members were quick to up the ante, entering in elaborate costumes that rivaled the best of West End productions. The Leader of the Opposition made a stunning entrance in an ensemble that reportedly cost more than the national budget for education reform, adorned with sequins spelling out slogans like "Vote for Change… or Else!" Spectators couldn't determine whether it was protest fashion or a new line of high-end intimidation tactics, but either way, it captured the essence of the modern political arena. As the session unfolded, the debates were predictably less about policies and more about who wore it better. Whispers circulated regarding a rumored best-dressed award, with the Speaker of the House found flipping through fashion magazines while attempting to maintain order among otherwise enthusiastic garment critics. “I believe the real winners today are the tailors of Westminster,” they quipped, gesturing towards the throng of garishly attired delegates. Meanwhile, serious topics like the economy and healthcare were handled with the same seriousness as a slapstick comedy. When one MP attempted to address the alarming rise of poverty, they were quickly drowned out by the sounds of a tambourine played by a particularly enthusiastic backbencher clad in vibrant floral print. “We are all in this together,” they chanted, before the Speaker cleared their throat with the enthusiasm of a disinterested waiter trying to take a dinner order. Even more notable was the innovative use of props. One particularly ambitious member of Parliament drew gasps as they produced a giant foam finger emblazoned with "We're Number One!" while delivering a speech on taxation reform, leaving constituents bewildered as to who exactly the "we" referred to. Critics have noted that relevant discussions around societal issues have been supplanted by increasingly theatrical antics that would leave Shakespeare questioning his decision to focus on tragedy. As the session drew to its inevitable close, the chamber erupted into what can only be described as a choreographed dance number involving MPs waving their hands and hooting like a chorus of owls, all while attempting—yet failing—to synchronize with the national anthem. Only the most cynical observers were left pondering if any real business had been conducted, or if this annual fashion show had, indeed, completely replaced the necessity for governance. As the curtain fell on this grand pantomime, one thing was clear: when it comes to the political stage, style over substance reigns supreme. The true challenge ahead is to keep the act together long enough to both don the costumes and maintain the façade of serving the very populace to whom they owe their extravagant wardrobes. Before you know it, the next election campaign will kick off, and who knows what styles of absurdity await us. At least it will keep things entertaining—unless, of course, real governance happens to break out.