Red Reeves is the heir to Churchill, in hair at least

Whether Rachel Reeves is red in tooth and claw remains to be seen at the budget, but the chancellor unveiled a new auburn look for a meeting with trade union officials yesterday. Reeves may be the first ginger chancellor since Churchill, albeit helped by dye; she is certainly the first cabinet minister with red hair in the Treasury since Danny Alexander, who was known as Beaker in the coalition years, after the character in The Muppet Show. Ten years ago, Beaker’s boss (George Osborne, not Dr Bunsen Honeydew) also drew attention with a sudden pre-budget hairdo change. In his case a growing bald patch vanished. Michael Gove reportedly told Osborne that his barber had worked the sort of miracle needed in the economy and “turned it round to stop the recession”.

Sir Jacob Rees-Mogg’s imminent jaunt in reality TV will, you may be relieved to hear, not be a Mendips Love Island. Asked at the Tory conference “how intimate it will be” on Meet the Rees-Moggs, the Mogg said that he told producers from the off that he would never appear improperly dressed. While he does remove his coat to play cricket in one episode, he retained his tie. “I think that if I take my tie off my head will fall off,” he said.

M’lord, m’lud

The death of Michael Ancram leaves the House of Lords without a single marquess. How will the country survive? The Marquess of Salisbury resigned in 2017 and the Marquess of Cholmondeley left in 2022. The former Tory chairman (aka the Marquess of Lothian) was merely Earl of Ancram until 2004 and used to trade under that title at the Scottish Bar until it was suggested that clients in court found it confusing when judges called a junior advocate “M’lord”.

Wombling free post

While the Post Office is under fire, the Royal Mail still delivers. The war historian James Holland was tickled to receive a letter yesterday that had been given the somewhat inadequate address of “well known historian, Wiltshire”. Lucky it had his name or it might have gone to Guy Walters. When Holland tweeted this, the composer Mike Batt replied that he once received a letter at his flat near Hyde Park that was simply addressed to “The Wombles, Wimbledon Common”.

Al Murray devoted his student years at Oxford to becoming a comedian, to the detriment of his degree. His success as the author of a well-received book on the Battle of Arnhem therefore surprised his former tutor. Blair Worden recently met Murray’s parents and asked how Al’s stand-up career was going. “He’s a historian now,” they said, to which a stunned Worden replied: “That cannot be right.”

• Arnhem by Al Murray review — a true story of pandemonium and panic

Champagne conservatism

As editor of The Spectator, Fraser Nelson ran a well-oiled machine. In a farewell column, he says part of his success was down to the large wine fridge at work that bore a notice asking staff to ensure that two bottles of Pol Roger were chilling at all times. Nelson’s own office had a well-stocked, frequently restocked whisky cabinet and, like a bricklayer, he measured his output by the spirit level. This cavalier attitude led to a quotation in The New York Times of which he is very proud: “It’s a very serious professional operation pretending to be a bunch of champagne dilettantes.” The key is to remember the first bit.