My weekly appearance on the podcast How to Win an Election, which I do with Danny Finkelstein, Polly Mackenzie and Matt Chorley, had succeeded in avoiding embarrassment until last week when, in response to a listener’s question about politicians’ appearance, I was momentarily stuck for something to say about Keir Starmer. I should have remained stuck. Instead, what came out of my mouth, after laying into Rishi Sunak’s skinny suits and narrow ties, was the suggestion that Keir could do with losing a few pounds. Heaven knows why it attracted such attention. Labour’s Wes Streeting was quick off the mark (he is so effective) with his condemnation of my ‘fat-shaming’ of his leader (his moral high ground lowered somewhat by an accompanying barb about my own paunchiness). Thankfully, in keeping with his own total lack of vanity, Keir himself was entirely forgiving, pointing out that every week he is in the gym and playing football, which is more than can be said for me.

On which subject, I was outed the other week to a Spectator editor by someone who spotted me sneaking into the Marylebone Lane branch of the St John restaurant to buy a doughnut. I make no apology as they are the best in London (especially those with the raspberry filling). My excuse is that they bring back happy memories of my father returning home with doughnuts from our local Sherrards bakery as a Saturday evening treat for my brother and me. Unfortunately, I have another Keir in my life, my uncompromising personal trainer (I think he gets it from his indomitable mother Helena Kennedy, newly appointed Lady of the Thistle) who does not accept such sentimental excuses. He is a food puritan and makes me give an honest(ish) account of my intake in the form of a daily food diary. Needless to say he takes an extremely negative view of doughnuts, and almost everything else that is fun to eat. But I know it is for my own good. As I write this, I thought I had impressed him with a report that I had a carb-free cooked breakfast in the morning. ‘Cholesterol on a plate’ was his response. There is just no pleasing some people.

My old friend Andrew Neil, the chairman of this august publication, had his own podcast embarrassment last week when Jeff Zucker, the putative new boss of The Spectator and the Telegraph,suggested Andrew was not always so opposed to the UAE’s bid to buy the titles and that he was in talks about chairing a new board in return for plenty of dirham. Andrew denies it. The whole deal is contingent on the Media Secretary Lucy Frazer clearing it and, as with almost everything else, the government seems to be kicking the can down the road. I understand their anxiety – sovereigns should be sovereigns rather than, ahem, publishers. The stark reality is that broadsheets are either owned by generous shareholders with deep pockets or risk going to the wall. It now seems the decision will fall to the next government. The fact that Boris Johnson’s cheerleader Nadhim Zahawi is said to have brokered the deal will, I am sure, go unnoticed by the incoming Labour team who have raised their eyebrows at the bid but are sitting on the fence.

Out this week was Conservative Home’s regular poll of Tory party supporters’ ratings on their political leaders. The PM and Chancellor were in the bottom three, while Kemi Badenoch and Penny Mordaunt were in the top two. The member for Portsmouth North may have trouble keeping her seat but it is safe to assume that she and Badenoch would be the most likely candidates to go to the members’ vote in any future leadership election. Yet they are clearly not suited to the top job and something tells me the men in grey suits are going to have an issue with this. I hear whispers that the Foreign Secretary, polling just in the negative zone, might be called on as a stopgap. The second coming of Dave?

I enjoyed Oppenheimer but the over-celebration of the film shows some lack of imagination by the awards in-crowd. There is surely much more talent in the industry worthy of recognition, but it seems Academy members are as capable of being influenced by Hollywood’s marketing messages as we all are. Barbie’s success, on the other hand, will be celebrated in July at the Design Museum. Before I stood down as the museum chair, the board was presented with the plans to hold a Barbie exhibition there. I was also told by director Tim Marlow that we could model Richard James suits in glorious pink (and not just the lining) at the event’s opening. I don’t miss the challenge of fundraising for such an important cultural institution, but I am sorry to miss out on a new pink whistle.