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This story is a parallel to The Emperor's New Suit by Hans Christian Andersen The Prime ministers new threads By Niki Power (2005) Did you know? Have you heard? About a story, so absurd? I wouldn’t believe it – But I was there. All were sworn to secrecy…. But to share it, I’ll dare! It was a warm September’s evening. The chill of winter had departed early leaving the prime minister feeling rather sticky and uncomfortable in his thermal underwear. The election had gone just as he’d predicted. He had wowed the crowds and won them over again. |
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page2 No, he was no ordinary prime minister. He knew how to talk the language of the people. They loved him for being really with it. His hair was fashionably streaked and held fast in place with the latest and greatest of hair products, giving his hair lustre and shine. His passion for fashion, widely acknowledged, made him a regular on the popular “Rove Live” show, where he would host the segment, “what the not to wear.” This was one of the highlights of his week, as he loved nothing more than to have a whole nation drooling over his amazing designer made threads, which made him look incredibly hot. But right now, he was feeling hot and bothered and somewhat bored. He knew this familiar, irritating feeling and he knew just how to fix it. While on the Rove live show one night, he’d witnessed an extraordinary outfit worn by one of the foreign artists, on the show. Pedro was an extraordinary musician with extraordinary style. Pedro wore a net shirt with rip features, satin designer boxers just visible under three quarter length black A-line hipster pants. The PM called the show’s manager to get the contact details and soon had the personal number for the designers…. As Prime minister you can access this sort of information that would never be available to any Tom, Dick or Harry from off the street. The meeting was held in the Prime minister’s private mansion and the two designers, whose identities were kept so secret that even the PM was unaware, were flown there by private jet with top security. The Prime minister did not want the public to know about his new clothes until the proper moment when he could make his grand statement. The designers enjoyed coffee and Pizza with the PM and then set to work taking measurements. They would compliment the PM after each measure was documented, on how perfect his physique. |
| page3 As they chatted and exchanged pleasantries, the designers told about the latest fabric… top secret of course, and a design of their own. It was made of all natural fibres and very politically sound. No animals were harmed in its production and the process was completely environmentally friendly. So much so, that no soap suds would be used which would damage the environment – this fabric was self cleaning- it didn’t need washing! Even more amazing was the inbuilt computer technology allowing the wearer’s skin to breathe naturally as it was totally non-allergenic. The designers informed the PM, that the fabric was being predicted as the fore-runner to a military uniform as it had the ability to camouflage and blend in with its environment. But most impressive of all was the fact that this fabric would be most useful in discerning character, as only those with a high genetic DNA of intelligence would be able to see the fabric. The PM was so excited that he immediately set up a room in his house for the designers to begin their project. An enormous amount of money was also immediately transferred into the designers’ bank account so that they could purchase the required materials. The designers appeared to be so busy down in their room. The internet and phone lines were completely tied up as they produced their fabulous fabric. The PM was nearly beside himself with excitement and just couldn’t wait to see the suit. He wondered who, in his office, would turn out to be unintelligent and not able to see the fabric. He had no doubts about his own ability, but still…. Maybe it would be wise to send someone to check on the fabric and it progress. Who could he send? “Surely”, he thought, “there is none more intelligent as my friend the barrister. So much intelligence is required for a degree in law.” |
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page4 So he invited his friend, Jim, for lunch and casually chatted about this and that and revolutionary fabrics, until the friend begged him to be allowed a sneak preview. With fake reluctance the PM agreed. So down to the suite of the designers went the barrister. The designers cordially invited him in, but requested that he only stay for a minute, so much work had yet to be completed. The PM paced the floor up stairs waiting in anticipation. Finally Jim returned in a strange mood. “It truly is a fabric that needs to be seen”, Jim responded to the questions that were thrust upon him. With the body language of an important person in a hurry, Jim looked at his watch and apologised to the PM, as he had another engagement to attend. With that, he left with a smile and shake of the hand. Life continued as usual, with the debates and public appearances. Then the night the PM lived for arrived – “Rove Live” night. While he was on the show he let it slip that he was having an out fit made. Now the whole country waited in anticipation for the outfit to be revealed. Australians, being a country of intelligent people, all expected that they would be able to see the true colours woven into the fabric, and knowing their beloved Prime minister, expected something that would take the fashion world by storm. Souvenir shops printed T-shirts with the Prime ministers face on it and the whole country speculated about the outfit. The weekend came and went. The designers ordered their meals to their room, but on Monday they came out to give a report. |
| Page 5 “We are wondering whether you prefer a metallic colour thread woven through or the simple cotton blue.” They told the PM. “We assume you’d prefer the distinguished mirror silver thread, but we need extra money to purchase this”. The Prime Minister of course, wanted no expense spared, so he transferred some more money. He was becoming a little anxious though. A young lady minister, Sarah, from an opposing political party, was extremely curious about this suit. She was also well known for her ability to wow the people with her impeccable attire. She decided that she must have a sneak look. Posing as a foreign princess, she arrived, stretch limo, chauffeur, fake wig and all, at the Prime ministers house when she knew he’d be out. “Oh, deary me” she said in a broad accent, “I must have my times confused. Would it be okay if I came in and waited?” Well who can refuse a princess? When she made herself comfortable she pretended to be almost sick with hunger. Therefore the staff left her alone while they prepared food, so she was able to sneak down to the designers’ room. She burst through the door pretending to be lost in the mansion with so many rooms. The designers could spot a con a mile away, but played along. “Your Majesty”, they said, “you are such a beautiful woman and of such obvious intelligence. Perhaps you would like to witness our fine work?” They showed her the fabric, both of them admiring it and talking ten to the dozen as they did, with a lot of technical jargon that she didn’t understand. Now, Sarah could not see a thing! However, the last thing that she wanted to do was to let anyone know that she wasn’t as smart as they all thought she was. |
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page 6 She had been able to fake her way through the political arena to this point. So, although she was bitterly disappointed with her inability, she knew, and was totally experienced in how to deal with these matters. She would lie through her teeth! “Truly divine!” she exclaimed. All those acting lessons really paid off, as she pretended to be discerning and wise, knowledgeable and exuberant about a suit she could neither see nor feel. The time for the suit to be revealed was fast approaching and the designers played their music extra loud. Oh, did I forget to tell you? It was one of their idiosyncrasies; they needed the music to work to. So the music was heard late into the night and early hours of the morning. Although the PM awoke excited and early, the designers did not venture forth until well after noon. The PM enjoyed a leisurely bath and dressed for the Rove live television show. He had butterflies dancing in his stomach today. The designers would dress him in his private room at the television station. The moment arrived. The designers held the outfit safely inside a travel bag so that no one could glimpse it. When they were safely inside, with doors locked, the designers revealed the outfit. Slowly and carefully they took it from the bag, as if holding a delicate garment of enormous wealth. And indeed it was at great cost to the prime minister. The PM gasped and his head spun. He thought he was going to faint. How could it be? Surely he was an intelligent man. He ran the whole country! He could not let anyone know that he saw absolutely nothing. |
| page7 “Are you alright?” asked the designers, “you look pale.” “I’m just so taken back with the beauty of this outfit. I’ll be fine in just a moment. Please help me get this suit on” said the PM. He certainly needed their help, other wise he may end up wearing the pants on his chest and the shirt round his butt. In the mean time, the Prime ministers assistant was in a flap. He’d had an important phone call and needed to get an urgent message through to the PM, but the television personal were so preoccupied with wanting to view the PM’s new threads that the assistant was simply squeezed out. He thought he’d try to talk to the producer, but he was not to be disturbed. He thought he’d talk to the show’s host, but he was in hair and make-up. No matter what he tried, nothing seemed to work. Then, it was time for the show. Everyone rushed to their places and the PM’s assistant was ushered and hushed to a dark corner of the room, where he waited in awful anticipation. The designers had left for the airport as a prior engagement prevented their staying for the accolades. The PM was escorted out by the television personal, who were shocked at the sight of the PM, but in awe of his position, politely complimented him and said no more. The audience broke out in applause as the PM’s arrival was announced, before he was even visible, and the count down for the show began. The producer, assuming that everyone must be seeing something that he couldn’t, exclaimed, “My, you’re looking well”. But just as the applause settled, when you could have heard a pin drop, as loud as day, a young boy in the audience called out, “NICE UNDIES!” |
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page8 The whispers began, and truth became evident. The PM tried to maintain his dignity, but he was suddenly aware that in pretending to be so intelligent he’d become the greatest fool of all. His assistant wondered if this would be an opportune moment to tell the PM about his phone message from the artist who’d worn the designers’ clothes before. You remember, Pedro, the musician with extraordinary style. You see, the PM had missed the last part of the show when the artist got up to leave his seat – His U-beaut pants which clung to his frame somewhere around his butt, lost their grasp on the slippery boxers and gravity stole them to the ground. No. The assistant decided this was a moment to keep his mouth shut. |
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