Fair or not, Jo Swinson has to upgrade her image if she wants to win this game

Boris Johnson isn’t wearing odd socks, has cut his hair and has given up booze to slim down. Jeremy Corbyn was pilloried for his tracksuit, and now he’s wearing a smart suit and new glasses. Yes, this might seem nit-picking, but personal packaging is essential

I voted for the Women’s Equality Party last time around, so why can’t I warm to Jo Swinson, who claims she could be our next prime minister? Sadly, Swinson has all the appeal of a hectoring headmistress about to issue extra detention, and this persona is not getting results – the Lib Dems have dropped eight points since the start of October, and new polling indicates the grim truth: the more the public sees Jo, the less we like her.

Swinson might be clever, impassioned and ambitious to the core, but in modern politics that’s not enough – I’ve come to the conclusion she needs a serious makeover. Yes, women shouldn’t be scrutinised more than men, but Jo is the face of her party, the woman on the leaflets, the face on the battle bus. She is the brand. Her most pressing task is to halt the Lib Dems’ current downward slide to stand any chance of holding the balance of power following the election.

Connecting with people who aren’t committed Lib Dem voters is a tough task, a large part of which is about presentation, and Jo Swinson is failing on so many levels. People want more than a message; they want to connect with a real person. Making a speech, Jo appears cold – her hairstyle seems severe, her make-up needs upgrading, her clothing needs to be softer and more flattering and, importantly, her vocal delivery has to be less bossy. This isn’t sexist or superficial: women need to use everything they can in order to achieve success in the male-dominated arena of politics. At the current rate, Naga Munchetty or Holly Willoughby have more chance of becoming prime minister than Swinson – both have won millions of fans with their welcoming personalities and people skills. Don’t denigrate those qualities – Jo must remember she’s is fighting to win our vote, not issuing parking tickets.

Voters say they don’t trust politicians or their promises, and as the youngest leader, Jo Swinson started off with a huge advantage – a change to build on youth and a clean slate to win over the disenchanted electorate. Sadly, every woman (and most of the men) I know who would like to vote Lib Dem (because they don’t trust Johnson or Corbyn) find her a huge turn off. In short, Jo Swinson is really annoying.

Why has it gone so wrong? Swinson fought hard for an election and at the start of the campaign it seemed as if the Lib Dems could end up holding the balance of power. They benefited from high-profile defections from the other main parties. On the current trajectory, though, that initial dream is inexorably slipping away. This week, the Lib Dems quietly dropped their fantasy assertion that Jo could be the next prime minister, and started floating the idea of a coalition. It’s an acknowledgement of the brutal reality – brand Swinson is failing to attract new voters.

I’m one of them. The Lib Dem manifesto launch earlier this week was just another example of Team Jo getting things wrong. The event looked naff, unprofessional, a bit wonky. The Lib Dem message was delivered in a tone more suited to a rally in North Korea than a nightclub, complete with Stop Brexit golden balloons. Swinson’s clothes have been ridiculed for being bright and strangely unserious, which might seem unfair compared to the opposite sex, but it’s a fair point – does she think it’s not important? To ask us to trust politicians to run the economy, the NHS and our armed forces requires a certain seriousness of dress. And all the leading men have spruced up.

Boris Johnson isn’t wearing odd socks, has cut his hair and has given up booze to slim down. He’s trying to tuck his shirts in and is wearing a tie. Jeremy Corbyn was pilloried for his tracksuit, and now he’s wearing a smart suit and new glasses. Yes, this might seem nit-picking, but personal packaging is essential. The more I see of John McDonnell, branded as a ruthless Stalinist by the Tory press, the more I’m impressed with his new persona of twinkly grandad, offering a wry smile with every answer to a hostile question, a warm jokey bloke you’d be only too willing to trust with your deposit account (only joking). He even agreed to be interviewed at lunch (in a cafe) for the Financial Times. McDonnell has done a lot of work on his image and his media presentation – there’s a softening of tone as he delivers the same hard-left message as before. His voice is less strident, and he doesn’t appear to take himself too seriously.

Media presentation is hugely important. Maggie Thatcher realised that she sounded too hectoring and sought professional advice from ad men and television producers to lower her voice, slow down her speech and change her clothes. She became a simple, utterly unmistakeable brand. Boris doesn’t have that issue – he booms out at full posh volume – there’s no mistaking him for anyone else. Astonishingly, this goes down really well with working-class men: London cabbies love him, and this week, male workers in a factory in Middlesbrough (hardly home to middle-class Tory voters) held up a sign saying “We love Boris”. Boris and his history of shagging isn’t even an issue, he’s a fully realised brand. So what’s brand Jo?

To win a vote, you must entice and seduce people. It’s called showbiz.