IT’S impossible to imagine Tony Blair or David Cameron even possessing a “donkey jacket”, let alone wearing one in the public eye.

But that was the hallmark of late Labour leader Michael Foot – he was his own man, he stood by his principles, and didn’t give two hoots for what the rest of the world thought.

And when the rest of the world thought he was wearing a “donkey jacket” at the Remembrance Day commemoration in 1981, he remained unmoved by the controversy – even though it was actually a fashionable duffel coat bought at no little expense by his late wife, Jill Craigie.

It was little realised, for instance, that the Queen Mother had complimented him on how smart he looked on the day. If that had become better- known at the time, it would have defused the furore over Mr Foot’s attire for such a sombre occasion.

But Mr Foot was as likely to employ a spin doctor as he was a stylist. These were the days when politics was on the cusp of change – when image was starting to supersede dogma as the overriding issue in affairs of state – but Michael Foot clung on to the hope that his tub-thumping oratorical histrionics could still triumph on the hustings.

He was proved wrong, and was humiliated at the polls as a result, perhaps accelerating the rate of political reform that swept the country. That is not to belittle Mr Foot, however, but to pay tribute to him for his unswerving loyalty to pure political thought, rather than policies moulded by focus groups and backroom PR gurus.

With his passing yesterday, we have left that era far behind. Is politics any better for its post-Foot transformation? We doubt it very much.