The other week at Heathrow I picked up a free copy of the GQ men’s magazine and spent several cheering minutes thumbing through the 27 pages devoted to its annual list of the 50 best-dressed men.
After I had read about the casually elegant Prince Harry and the “living, breathing fashion deity” that is apparently Keanu Reeves, I discovered there was an even better list: 2020s worst-dressed men.
GQ loathed Mark Zuckerberg’s suits. It despaired of Donald Trump’s waistcoats. David Solomon, the Goldman Sachs boss and part-time DJ, may have relaxed his bank’s dress code last year, but his dance floor garb of baseball caps and T-shirts was still deemed a bit too “grandad at the disco”.
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