Liz O'Donnell has joined Bono in that exclusive group of Irish people famous enough to wear shades indoors.
Hers have a fashionable blue tint cleverly matching both her party's recent emotional state and the corporate colours of its manifesto, which is yet another must-have political accessory the Progressive Democrats are sporting before everyone else.
The election season almost upon us, the PDs were also sounding a bit like Bono, but instead of wanting to save the world, they told us how they already had - or this little corner of it anyway.
The boom? Record employment figures? "The transformation in Ireland wouldn't have happened without us in Government," said Mary Harney before telling us how, U2-style, they have dreamt it all up again, confident the country can be "transformed" over the next five years.
Despite the upbeat message, there was a sense that here was a party still smarting from the Bobby Molloy debacle. On the steps of the Dublin hotel, photographers urged candidates to be "happy, smiley and confident" or at least to try to look as though they were. "Why not?" one candidate was heard to say through smiling teeth, "we have tried everything else."
Instead of "cheese", they were urged to say "election", even though, publicly at least, a date hasn't been set yet. On this matter, Mary Harney insisted they weren't playing games and rejected the charge that the manifesto launch timing gave them an unfair advantage.
"There was nothing stopping anyone else," she said, using the opportunity to get a dig in at those opposition parties which had already rushed out election material.
"Maybe if they took more time they would have avoided the mistakes . . . there are serious errors in Fine Gael's document," she sniffed.
The conference room, where 17 hopeful candidates took up two rows, was festooned with three giant posters of a smiling Ms Harney.
Refreshments included two jars of boiled sweets which provided Tom Parlon with his first official election gaffe.
Seconds after popping a sweet into his mouth, he removed it by hand, noisily placing the offending item back in its wrapper.
He displayed more commitment to his party and confessed he was off to collar "my great leader" to see when she could fit in a visit to Parlon country.
Wearing her blue-tinted specs, Liz O'Donnell spoke for us all when she sighed: "What a way to spend a Sunday, you could be walking the pier."