Dear Mr. Kwint,

Although I feel you would much prefer if I wrote ‘Hey yo Peter’ here

What a reprimand you received from Mrs. Arib. She didn't think your faded shirt quite matched your official outfit. Call it a strange leap of thought, but I suddenly thought of Bridget Jones where the poor Bridget manages to turn in a tiny skirt and then receives an email from her supervisor with the text: ‘Where’s the skirt, Jones? Gone fishing?’

Being publicly addressed about a ‘style faux pas’ is in my top 10 of ‘I’d rather not have that’ (there are worse things, really, but still), but you seemed to parry it shockingly well. Something about a broken washing machine and a slow dry cleaner.

I understand. Your hard-earned money all goes straight into the party's coffers and looking for another dry cleaner, well, there's simply no time for that. And asking Lilian Marijnissen to iron your shirts is a bit much. I understand.

Moreover, there is no dress code in the chamber, so yes, how were you supposed to know? Small suggestion: by looking around you. Seeing what the general code is. Reading studies that show politicians in suits are taken more seriously by voters. By considering that serious clothing is a sign of respect towards your audience. By realizing that clothing is an extension of who you are as a person. In your case, that should be: faded and slow? Something like that?

Maybe you have thought particularly about it. You want to stand close to the people as an SP member. No monkey in a suit. In that case, I would say: expand it. Amplify it. Make it your signature.
If Mrs. Arib then comments again, you respond with the one-liner from Harriet Calo: fashion is only truly successful when others don't quite understand it.

And who knows, your faded shirt might end up in the Utrecht Municipal Museum, next to Hans Spekman's knitted holey sweater.