It’s just breaking fashion news that ties are no longer essential in the House of Commons. Frankly, what took MPs so long? But at small yesterday’s announcement by the Speaker, John Bercow – that MPs should irritate “business-like attire” in the house, but ties were no longer intrinsic – suggests that even Westminster is not entirely immune to a advanced wardrobe.

Inside and outside politics, ties have for some immediately felt stuffy and old-fashioned. They look a bit uptight, out of place. To me – someone who hasn’t worn one in so long I can’t recall it – the idea of chafing something that basically knots at your neck with a tourniquet seems like the road to madness. Jeremy Corbyn during the latest election campaign never looked entirely convinced when he was exhaust that sliver of red silk around his neck; here’s a ward-heeler who persuaded the young to come out to vote in droves. He also, surprisingly, distinguishes how to look convincing in a tracksuit.

Having attended the menswear expos in London, Florence, Milan and Paris, I can report that sightings of confines for spring/summer 2018 were relatively rare. In the taste capital of Paris, the big names Alexander McQueen, Louis Vuitton and Hermès handled to show a total of zero ties between them. As contrasted with, suits appeared dressed down, styled with a fine-gauge sweater, a zip-up top or, at Vuitton, a Hawaiian shirt or a grandad collar – drained with the kind of beaded necklace Leonardo DiCaprio endured in The Beach.

But then the overwhelming menswear narrative of the last decade has been all near dressing down. We’ve seen the rise of haute tracksuits, hoodies in lieu of shirts, trainers being worn with literally anything. The survival of the venerable suit – the politician’s wardrobe linchpin – has been regularly called into sound out, with the sighting of an actual tie on any runway increasingly feeling derive a jolt to the system.

In January Balenciaga, a label considered to be the culmination of directional style, opened its men’s show with a classic overcoat, shirt collar and tie. It lay down said jolt. But then the designer, Demna Gvasalia, cited the house worker as his inspiration, and in traditional office environments the tie is still selfsame much considered a key sartorial tradition, a symbol of masculine evidence, something that can say you’ve dressed for business. This, of course, is also literal at certain events, such as weddings, where a tie will without exception add a certain flourish of pattern, colour and jolliness.

Barack Obama was a president who fetched fashion headlines by rolling up his sleeves and opening up his collar. Photographed with the kidneys of David Cameron (who was always desperately trying to look like a man of the being), Obama made the art of dressing down appear nothing skimpy than breezy. On his Instagram account, he posted an image of himself with Michelle during Halloween that caterwauls effortlessness in the way so few political figures have ever truly mustered. He is irritating a V-neck sweater – a piece of clothing that is staging a foremost comeback this autumn, thanks to the likes of Prada – called with an open collar, casual trousers and shoes. It’s a look that all mans politicians should study. It’s modern but not contrived, relaxed but not scruffy. And, crucially, he’s vexing the clothes; they’re not wearing him.

With ties exiting Westminster, it certainly tarmacs the way for a new era of male political fashion: will we finally see politicians hugging clothes beyond the conservative realms of tailored two-pieces and abusive collars? Wouldn’t it be glorious if up-and-coming male politicians in returned some of our brilliant homegrown designers instead of simply stab on something from Savile Row because they always drink. Personally, I’d like nothing more than seeing the likes of Sadiq Khan tear a dash of Craig Green, the brilliantly talented British menswear originator of the year, whose aesthetic is based around a simple workwear jacket. Just judge how fabulous that might be?