Once upon a time there was an MP named Theresa Fey. She lived in a rather nice house in one of the better parts of the country, well away from JAMS, otherwise known as poor people. One day while at work she was suddenly informed that a few people had decided that she was to be the Leader, not just of her party, but of the whole country. This sudden rise to power came as something of a surprise to her, for although she had coveted this role for nearly two decades, she knew deep down that she had never been particularly good at her job. For one thing, in her previous role she had been instructed to protect the country’s borders and prevent many strangers from foreign lands from coming to work hard and pay taxes in the country. However, she had failed to do this, and over the years some people had indeed travelled to the country from other lands, liked it and had chosen to stay. While many citizens of the land were happy to see new people arrive from other lands, and welcomed them and their cultural diversity with open arms, others were smaller-minded and wanted nothing more than to see the borders closed. Theresa had failed in this, her biggest task, yet now she was being rewarded with the most important job of all. It was all a little strange and overwhelming, but this was an opportunity too good to miss. So rather than admit to her past failings and her fear of not being good enough, the newly chosen Leader decided instead to get on with the job of running the country.
The one condition of her rise to power was that she must wear a new suit of clothes, known as the Brexsuit. Many of the citizens of the land had voted for her to wear this, although others were completely against it. Like everyone else in the land, Theresa didn’t know exactly what the Brexsuit looked like, but there were those who said it would ensure that the country had a fine future, and it would mean the citizens could take back control. Theresa thought this sounded like a good thing – she was quite a fan of control garments as they made her look in better shape than she really was.
Besides, her advisors were adamant that since a little over half of the people had chosen it, it must be worn. When Theresa took on the trappings of the Brexsuit, she knew immediately that it was a mistake – and she knew a thing or two about fashion faux pas. Indeed, she wondered if anyone could possibly look good in it. It had a certain glossy sheen about it, and yet it seemed so lacking in substance, almost as if people might see right through it. Worse still, it was a very poor fit and felt awfully uncomfortable. In fact, it was quite the opposite of the designs she’d chosen before she came to power. When she mentioned to her advisors that the Brexsuit seemed a little see-through, they replied that only very stupid people would be unable to see the charms of the new outfit. It was difficult for Theresa to find a suitable response to this assertion. Did it mean she herself was stupid?
Theresa didn’t entirely trust the purveyors of the Brexsuit either, there was something slightly shifty and suspect about Fagojo Ltd, and it sounded a bit foreign. Nevertheless, after so many years of yearning to have the job of Leader, the prospect of power was simply too tempting for Theresa. She wasn’t prepared to let such an opportunity slip through her fingers over the small matter of some slightly diaphanous attire. So she reluctantly set aside her beloved Vivienne Westwood, and put on the new suit.
One thing was clear, it was controversial. Some people were infatuated with it, others hated it. There were those in the land who had never warmed to Theresa’s old style of dressing, finding her footwear, in particular, slightly distasteful, but the sight of the new Brexsuit was even more unpalatable. As months went by, more and more people started to question it. Many people were brave enough to admit that it was not all it was cracked up to be. Some became vocal and questioned why she was wearing it. Although Theresa herself heartily disliked it, she felt obliged to defend it since she had chosen to wear it in exchange for power. This was not likely to be an easy task, since it really was indefensible. However, she soon discovered that many people were satisfied with simple, meaningless phrases, such as “Brexsuit means Brexsuit” – as long as she repeated them often enough.
Some citizens were desperate to believe in it, because they had asked for it in the first place, so they continued to delude themselves that it really was a magnificent outfit. Theresa was also lucky enough to have the support of media man Paul Faker, who was happy to add to his fortune by selling papers convincing people that the Brexsuit was the best thing for the country, and that anyone who said otherwise must be a traitor.
Confused and troubled, more discerning people started to want more information about it. What did it consist of? Was it hard or soft? But curiously Theresa wasn’t quite sure – deep down she felt it ought to be soft, and yet the people closest to her said it must be a hard Brexsuit. The worst thing was, she was increasingly convinced that the whole thing was so lightweight it really had no substance whatsoever. Fearing that other people might be able to see through it too, she decided to announce that it was a red, white and blue Brexsuit. Some people were surprised and disappointed to hear this. They believed that it should be pure white, as this was the only colour they felt was fitting for their country.
When Theresa travelled to meet the leaders of other lands, they were rather bewildered to see her, for they too saw straight through the Brexsuit. They did their best to persuade her to cover herself and adopt some suitable attire. But she would not hear of it. By now, Theresa had become rather attached to it and was unwilling to give it up. She believed that the other leaders were simply envious of her.
Meanwhile, more and more people felt embarrassed by their leader and her outfit. The anti-Brexsuiters decided to take action. They would no longer let their country become the butt of the world’s jokes. The leaders of the other parties joined together and demanded a new vote, now that people had seen it. This gave people the chance to stop pretending that the Brexsuit was a good idea. People were relieved to be able to admit at last that they too, could see right through it. So it came to pass that an overwhelming majority voted to get rid of the Brexsuit. When the result was declared, the people cheered. Their days of shame were over. Honour and decency were restored to the land. Theresa was mortified. She tried to contact Fagojo Ltd, but they were nowhere to be found. Horrified to realise that she had had the wool pulled over her eyes, Theresa fled the country and neither she nor the Brexsuit was ever seen again.