Three Cabinet ministers from the now-ruling Labour Party, all granted anonymity in order to speak frankly, told POLITICO one way Reform might falter was if Farage and his colleagues failed to show they were decent representatives for their constituents. “They might crash and burn,” said one.
The imperative for hard graft in order to succeed electorally one of the few things Farage agrees with them on. “They’re 100 percent right on that,” he told POLITICO from Clacton’s Royal Hotel, the beachfront building where Farage is setting up his constituency office.
“The reason people are voting for us, and joining us, is they think we can change things,” Farage said, seated below a ceiling covered with white and pink plastic flowers. “If we can show in office that we are able to change things … then they’ll go on voting for us in bigger and bigger numbers.”
The new MP has now purchased a house in the constituency, albeit in one of the leafier areas some way from Jaywick, the former holiday resort on the edge of town frequently cited as among the most deprived places in Britain.
Nothing a little botox can’t fix
One of reasons he was ostensibly visiting the beauty salon was to hear about the boxes of presents the owner was donating to deprived children in the area. The MP, in his trademark tweed jacket and flat cap, stood by a sign saying “nothing a little botox and filler can’t fix,” and offered to donate a batch of apple juice made by a farmer closer to where he really lives in Kent.
The juice was branded “Farage,” in an advertising exercise reminiscent of Trump’s. It may not be the Covid relief checks brandishing the then-president’s name that were sent out to millions of Americans, but the apple juice dropped at food banks for the hungry is a canny way of showing who’s behind the help being offered.