EDITORIAL: Anthony Albanese is untouchable and he knows it

There are two main avenues available to the professional dad in later middle-age looking to express himself through his clothing.

You can become a fun socks guy. Fun socks guys — who can count erstwhile Canadian PM Justin Trudeau among their number — want you to know that they refuse to conform, for a few inches between calf and ankle at least.

Or, you can be a band T-shirt guy. Bolder than his fun socks-loving cousin, the middle aged band T-shirt guy hopes the logo on his chest acts as a beacon of cool, signalling to all in his path that his glory days are far from over.

Anthony Albanese has chosen the latter route.

We’ve had a glimpse into the Prime Minister’s collection on a number of occasions. We saw him boogie in a Midnight Oil tee at the band’s farewell gig in 2022, the same year he declared on his register of interests the gift of two shirts from Arnhem Land rockers King Stingray. On Ausmusic T-shirt Day in 2023, he repped merch from Aussie punk pioneers Radio Birdman.

And he’s no bandwagoner either. A photograph of a younger Albo sporting a Celibate Rifles shirt has been dated to 1988.

This is a man who is comfortable wearing his music tastes on his short sleeves.

So his choice of wardrobe for his arrival back to Australia after a successful meeting with Donald Trump speaks volumes.

He stepped off his RAAF jet at Sydney Airport clad in a shirt from English postpunks Joy Division — specifically, the artwork from the band’s debut album Unknown Pleasures, which was released in June 1979, right around the time a 16-year-old Anthony Albanese was developing both his musical tastes and political views.

It’s a shirt we’ve seen before. He wore it to a Gang of Youths concert at Enmore Theatre in his Grayndler electorate with now-fiancee Jodie Haydon back in 2022.

Which is to say this is Anthony Albanese in his element. An Anthony Albanese who feels comfortable and in control. A king in his domain who has nothing to prove.

This wasn’t even a T-shirt belonging to some achingly cool Australian indie band, carefully selected for maximum impact (if it weren’t for the photographic evidence of the Celibate Rifles top, we’d probably argue the Radio Birdman tee fit that category).

This was Anthony Albanese wearing what he wanted to wear. Because who is going to stop him?

The meeting with the Americans went better than anyone could have hoped.

Every time he sets foot in the chamber he is surrounded by an ocean of his own people. The words “94 seats” still ring in his ears.

The Coalition is in disarray, with a number of Nationals still openly flirting with the idea of jumping ship to One Nation. They can’t lay a finger on the Prime Minister.

He feels untouchable. And for now, he’s right.

But how long can it last?

Hubris has a way of sneaking up on you. Charming confidence mutates into ugly, swaggering arrogance in the blink of an eye.

Should that happen, many within Labor — including Mr Albanese himself — might find themselves wishing he’d pulled on some fun socks instead.

Responsibility for the editorial comment is taken by Editor-in-Chief Christopher Dore.