Absolute power corrupts one’s dress sense absolutely

If you’re near a laptop and in search of a giggle, go to http://tinyurl.com/6gamb73. Otherwise, let me explain in words: that links you to a gallery of scores of photographs of Muammar Gaddafi in silly clothes. There are images of him in absurd, invented, full military dress, festooned with the gilt and silverware of bogus medals; sashes of every kind, colour and cloth, all gaudy. There are images of the tinpot dictator decked out in purple like a Roman emperor, swathed in silk with turbans, in mid-desert in combat gear, taking the salute in braid and twill, or crowned in gold. Sunglasses of the most bizarre shape and size, a bewildering range of the ludicrous pillbox hats to which he seemed addicted, tiara-like arrangements; khaki and velvet, silk and camelhair… these, it seems, became the ever-expanding wardrobe of his life.

The effect is satirical but from the Colonel’s viewpoint the self-ridicule is unwitting: he honestly thought he looked good in the outfits.