text: Atten-shun! The three leaders’ wives were on parade yesterday, marching across the country in support of their men, in support of the political party into which they married, in support of desperately important employment issues – keeping their idiot husbands in a job. In the corridors of power, Samantha Cameron, Justine Miliband and Miriam Clegg proved once more that they are the ones who wear the trousers, in more ways than one. Indeed, Samantha and Justine marched out in almost identical uniforms; dark slacks and blazers, paired with crisp shirts and sensible shoes. They looked like a pair of lady pilots from the budget Deficit airline, ready for their long haul flight to or from the land of Austerity, depending on whose husband wins. The only accessory missing were their welfare caps, which they must have left at home. Scroll down for video . In the corridors of power, Samantha Cameron, Justine Miliband  (left) and Miriam Clegg (right) proved once more that they are the ones who wear the trousers, in more ways than one . Sam Cam put her best foot forward on the campaign trail in west London. Well, almost. Badge on lapel, leaflets in hand, smart white loafers tripping lightly over the Hounslow flagstones, she looked every inch the groomed and polished loyal Conservative wife. That was until she visited a Sikh family for a cup of tea. Mrs Cameron respectfully took her shoes off before entering the home of local businessman Baljinder Hansraas and before anyone could scream: ‘Holy footcream!’ she unleashed them. Out popped a pair of startling tootsies, displaying what might just have been a hint of a bunion. All across the Home Counties, fragrant Tory women fell into a dead faint. For Sam Cam’s seldom seen feet seemed ever so slightly unkempt, unusual from a woman noted for her effortless elegance. They didn’t even seem very Tory toenails. Shriek – not even a drop of nail polish! I don’t know what the grooming squad will have to say about that, but I doubt it will be very flattering. Sam Cam put her best foot forward on the campaign trail in west London. Well, almost. Badge on lapel, leaflets in hand, smart white loafers tripping lightly over the Hounslow flagstones, she looked every inch the groomed and polished loyal Conservative wife . Perhaps we should not be too harsh. Not many women would come out smelling of roses and peppermint foot lotion if they unexpectedly had to reveal their workaday feet, still slightly steaming from punishing the pavements, to the nation. Yesterday’s shock unveiling of Crinkletoes Cameron was reminiscent of a moment during the last election, when Sarah Brown’s mangled trotters were revealed on a visit to a Hindu temple. The same furore greeted Brown’s podiatric horror story. And the message was the same. Woman goes out in public without painted toenails? The end of civilisation is nigh. Poor Sam Cam. If she had unveiled the perfect trimmed pedicure and three glistening coats of Rouge Noir, she would be accused of being self-indulgent. Wasting money on luxuries or wandering around with battered trotters. She can’t win. But in this election, who can? Justine resolutely wore the exact same outfit she wore last week, sending out a Take Me Serious message that Clothes Don’t Matter. Campaigning in Bradford, she looked like a grim pixie determined to prove to the Milifans that her man was the man. Or something like that. It was left to Miriam to show a bit of wackitude, pulling on a huge smile, a pair of Lib Dem yellow chinos and a nautical Breton top; she looked like Tweety Pie reporting for duty on the good ship Doomed. Miriam dragged her husband Nick along to a cookery lesson at a Wiltshire primary school. Aprons on, they exchanged loving looks as they and the pupils were shown how to make a variety of desserts using apples and blackberries. Soft fruit, fool, pudding and crumble? That is the history of the Lib Dems right there. Just a week to go and the wifely bandwagon rolls on. Their role is to be there, be visible, be bland and say nothing of import. In this carefully manicured – if not pedicured – election, the days of loudmouth Cherie wading in like a docker with gout have long gone. I almost miss them. Today’s wives must smile nicely. Today’s wives must not rock the boat. Today’s wives must wear ordinary high street clothes and nothing that hints at their secret, massive wealth – although Samantha’s two hundred quid spotty blouse must have slipped under Tory central office radar. Above all, however, today’s wives must remember that pulling your socks up is not as important as keeping them on.
target: All the party leader's wives have been spotted looking stylish in trousers .
  Samantha Cameron and Justine Miliband  wore almost identical uniforms .
  Miriam Gonz·lez was more quirky donning a pair of Lib Dem yellow chinos .