Shopping: Buy me a pet politician

Jane Furnival finds badges with flashing eyes, busts of Lenin - and much more

Jane Furnival
Friday 25 April 1997 23:02 BST
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Yes, politicians can be bought - at the shop run by the one-time political lobbyist Iain Dale. He has just opened a cafe-cum-shop where you can buy badges, manifestos and politicians in book, photo or autograph form. There's even a cuddly Paddy Ashdown to take to bed with you.

Iain keeps close tabs on those who set foot in his personal house of Parliament. "There are 40 to 50 people who come in three or four times a week," he says.

Many of them are politicians who nip in to buy election mugs, mug shots and manifestos issued by opposing parties. Lefties snap up New Labour, New Danger badges with flashing eyes. Strangely, no one had yet bought a CD-Rom on New Labour, at pounds 195.

Next in order of importance as customers are political groupies, known to Iain as "anoraks". One Labour researcher visits every day in search of any old obscure manifesto, which he collects. Jeffrey Archer looks in occasionally for souvenirs of prime ministers or opposition leaders. He hasn't yet purchased the complete signed photo set displayed on the walls. Macmillan can be bought for pounds 150, Kinnock for pounds 85. But the market in political collectables has not really taken off here as it has in America, where they pay pounds 200 upwards for badges, car stickers and enamel tie-pins.

The proud proprietor ushers me behind the scenes to his desk, the first political office I've ever occupied. It has a prominent bottle of Dettox Professional air freshener. (Do the ordinary public just have a weak, amateur version? I wonder.)

I am allowed to peer through a blind at the paying customers. Looking at their striped shirts, I can't get rid of the impression that they have been sent by central casting for a Michael Dobbs TV special. In the cafe, an aesthetic Hugh Grant lookalike was enjoying sneaky, conspiratorial sniggers with his pals as they ate their chicken Blair sandwiches.

The idea of a shop selling everything political was inspired by a shop in Washington which Iain came across during his stint as a lobbyist, representing the Ports Authority against the dockers. The only British rival is the official Parliamentary souvenir shop, but it's not allowed to sell anything derogatory to Parliament, so the field is clear for Politico to sell games such as the newly-launched Snap Election, or Politics - the Game of Sleaze. With his business partner John Simmons, an ex-chemist, Iain also writes postcard slogans. "Dip me in honey and feed me to the lesbians" is their proudest - if puzzlingly distasteful - effort. It's a best-seller, apparently. "Trust me, I work for the Government" is popular among civil servants'.

The most seductive stock? A model of three miners sculpted entirely from coal at pounds 30, a great stocking-filler. A painting of Maggie Thatcher in mist, like a romantic heroine, pounds 1,350. A set of nesting dolls painted to look like John Major, Maggie Thatcher, Harold Wilson and Winston Churchill goes for pounds 24.95. "Hideous, but a best-seller," whispers Iain, reminding me rather of Gerald Ratner. A teapot featuring all the US presidents, bought at a car boot sale, is on display at pounds 49.

As you gaze at the collection of gimmicks and gadgets, you can't help wondering why we turn out such political tat. Who wants a fridge sucker Spitting Image-style head of a politician, at pounds 2.99?

Dead politicians seem so much more desirable. Beautifully drawn caricatures of Randolph Churchill cost pounds 30; an Islington MP's press cuttings book from 1886, pounds 195.

There are instant antiques, too, such as Pack of Lies playing cards from 1992, price pounds 7.95.

Iain ponders a Lenin number, at pounds 34.95. "Busts are difficult to shift," he muses.

Politico's, 8 Artillery Row, Westminster, London SW1 (0171-828 0010). Mail order available.

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