If live broadcasting is your thing, as it is for this lot, then “election night is as exciting as it gets,” says Sky News politics veteran Adam Boulton. “You’re in the chair from 9pm for perhaps 11 hours, and for much of it you genuinely don’t know what’s going to happen. At 9 o’clock, you know nothing. At 10 o’clock, bang, it’s the exit polls, and this time there will be Scottish exit polls to look at again, then you’ve got the slow bit up until 1am, then it starts to happen and you’re trying to figure out if the first results compute against the exit poll.”

And then, in the bleary dawn, the full human drama unfolds, as key seats are won and lost, and the nation watches politicians experience the best and worst moments of their careers, live on television. There is, they all agree, nothing like it.

What’s more, what makes an election “majestic”, the Today programme’s Justin Webb tells me, “is this sense of a political process, which is only ever one remove from a bare-knuckle fight. The handover of real power is a raw moment. When you see it done without a fight, with passion but with grace, there’s something glorious about that.”

The broadcasters we have gathered for Weekend’s shoot – Boulton, Webb, Jon Snow, Faisal Islam (Boulton’s Sky News colleague and, at 37, the youngest political editor on TV), Krishnan Guru-Murthy of Channel 4 and the retired-from-election-duty but iconic Peter Snow – are players in this moment of real-time national drama. As the bearers of good or bad news, depending on your point of view, they have a relationship with us, the viewers. They have a relationship with Westminster, too, of course; and not always a smooth one. Jon Snow has been accused of leftwing bias by Tory MP Philip Davies; Boulton had an on-screen finger-jabbing spat with Alastair Campbell soon after the 2010 election. For the record, all were a delight in person, and remarkably gracious about being asked to wear some pretty gaudy sportswear. (“Edgy athleisure” was the brief. “No suits.”) And Boulton, far from picking any fights, made me a cup of tea.

Such sartorial open-mindedness is impressive when they have a ringside seat on a world in which a good haircut or perfectly rolled shirt sleeve can deliver a knockout punch. For instance, whether voters can “see” Ed Miliband as PM is a long-running issue. “It’s one of the first things people bring up about him,” Guru-Murthy says, “and the Conservatives are playing image strongly in this campaign. Their attack is, ‘Look at Ed.’ In brackets, ‘What a plonker.’ Look at our suave, cool, well-educated man, who can string a sentence and eat a sandwich. Labour are playing image the other way: look at him, he’s posh, he’s out of touch.”

Islam, previously Channel 4’s economics editor, remembers, “when the economy was flat, you could not get George Osborne and Danny Alexander out of hard hats and hi-vis. This while they were halving investment in infrastructure. They knew the pictures would distract from that.”

Calibrations of image are endlessly tinkered with: Cameron, Boulton notes, looks “less City slicker, more retired solicitor going to the bank”, now he is chasing the pensioner vote. Politicians “want to be cultural icons, as well as decision-makers”, Islam says. “So the ultimate win in media terms is a nice, fluffy, mid-market tabloid analysis.” There is a degree of eye-rolling about in-kitchen photo ops, but Webb points out “politics is a branch of human behaviour. We know governing is pretty difficult, and we know politicians may not do the things they promised, not necessarily because they are liars, but because circumstances send them off course. So you instinctively choose someone not just because of their policies, but because you think they’d veer off course in a direction you would find acceptable. I don’t think people voted for Obama because of Obamacare. They voted for him for what felt like more deep-seated reasons.”

The “great intangible of politics”, Boulton says, “is authenticity. Boris Johnson has his Just William look, and the message is he’s his own man, he doesn’t care too much about those kind of things. Nigel Farage, in his corn-coloured trousers and velvet-collared coat, is semaphoring a message to small-c conservatives that he’s just like them. What people like about Farage is that they see him – rightly or wrongly – as being authentic.”

Tony Blair’s “crisp, white shirts and rolled-up sleeves gave him an air of JFK and RFK, and made people believe he would change things”, Boulton says. But after two slick-looking prime ministers (Blair and Cameron), “it could be that the anti-politics mood means even if people know who looks most like a prime minister, they might vote for someone else”, Islam notes. “Authenticity has become more valuable than polish. But who knows? Perhaps Boris sits at home polishing his Alexander McQueen loafers, while cultivating scruffy bonhomie in public.” The only pundit who says he has “no feeling about what politicians wear” is Peter Snow. Instead he “needs to see an honest face”. Which, perhaps, is still judging a book by its cover, but giving the same process a more solid, old-fashioned name.

They are all full of energy – a requirement for all-nighters – and enthusiasm. Peter Snow, who arrives in a moss-green cashmere half-zip sweater from John Lewis, is inspiringly positive about being photographed in a different look – “Makeup! Why not? Great stuff. Terrific!” – and after he has had his photo taken happily settles down for a slice of pizza and a gossip (the BBC, the Guardian editorship). “Oh, yes, I like a bit of product. You go for it, darling,” his cousin Jon tells the makeup artist later, as he settles into the chair. Islam wants to know what colour his sweatshirt is. Raspberry, I suggest, and he bursts out laughing.

They talk about elections the way football fans talk about Cup finals. They can reel off dates and statistics until the cows come home. (Boulton: “The most exciting are the transitional elections, 97, 2010. I go back to 83, and 83, 87, 2001, 2005, those were quite dull as campaigns, because there was a general expectation of who was going to win. This election is closest to 1992 – it has some of that nastiness about it.”) The 1997 election is seared on to everyone’s memory. Guru-Murthy, who was reporting for the BBC at the time, “had a great job that night, going to all the parties. There was this tangible sense of excitement and expectation of change.”

The swingometer is the most iconic of a gallery of visuals that television has used to try to turn election number-crunching into theatre. At Sky News, Boulton recalls, “They made us sit around a giant question mark one year.” Colour is key in telling the story, although this election’s fragmented picture complicates matters. (Apparently, the Lib Dems have moved away from yellow and back towards orange, to differentiate themselves from the SNP.) The broadcasters will all wear suits and ties on the night; one fairly safe bet is that Jon Snow’s will be the most exuberant. (“I am a tie and socks fetishist. The tie will depict my mood for the day. Which is always exuberant.”)

His enthusiasm aside, most talk about onscreen clothes in terms of avoiding disaster rather than courting triumph. Islam, who arrives at our shoot in a very nice Ralph Lauren suit, once did a piece to camera at Channel 4 wearing a hoodie, “which I thought you couldn’t see, but you could – the hood kept sticking up. And that was the only thing anyone noticed. Nobody heard what I said.” At Sky News, he has to be “groomed to a standard I previously associated with weddings”.

Boulton wears formal shirts from Turnbull & Asser with the buttons concealed (looks neater should your tie move) and long socks (no risk of bare flesh if a trouser leg rises up). Gresham Blake suits and ties are popular. Boulton has an arrow-design, multicoloured Gresham Blake tie he might wear on election night: “You can’t wear a single colour or someone will accuse you of bias.” Jon Snow loves upscale Italian brand Fratelli Rossetti’s smart shoes in subtle colours: “I find you get a lot of comments on a beautiful shoe.” I glance down at his feet and he exclaims, “Not those – these are my cycling shoes!” Even on the radio, Webb says, “we dress reasonably smartly. Not formal, but generally cords or chinos, and a shirt. The editor is a natty dresser, I notice, often besuited. I think he has power lunches. If I’m working on a Saturday, it’s different. I can wear jeans and a jumper then, because guests’ expectations are different.”

Neither Boulton nor Islam intends to vote on 7 May – they feel making a personal judgment would cloud their impartiality. Jon Snow will vote “early, like I always do. But for the first time ever at this stage in the election [late March], I don’t know whom I’ll vote for.” Guru-Murthy will vote early, Webb as soon as Today finishes. Peter Snow is looking forward to “a stroll across the common, with my wife” to the polling booth.

Then the excitement starts. “If it’s a question of who has the most seats in a hung parliament, then, my goodness, every seat will count!” Snow exclaims. “The second day will be extremely exciting. A late count somewhere in the Western Isles could change everything.” He polishes off his pizza. “Terrific stuff!”

Jon Snow

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Favourite election year?

2015 – it is proving such a chaotic unknown, with so many contestants.

Favourite marginal seat?

Basildon, Essex – the seat that indicated, at about midnight, that Labour had failed to win the 1992 election.

Most memorable political gaffe?

Former Tory MP David Mellor’s rant at a London taxi driver last year.

Worst on-air moment?

Turning to a panel of three politicians down the line at Westminster, and not knowing who the one in the middle was.

Election night survival kit?

Spritzers and nibbles.

Most stylish politician ever?

John Profumo.

Suit or tracksuit?

Suit, if I must wear either.

Biggest fashion faux pas?

My white suit at the 2012 Paralympics.

How do you unwind after election night?

My cycle home.

House Of Cards or The West Wing?

House Of Cards.

Anchorman or Network?

Network.

Bacon sandwich or pasty?

Must I? OK, bacon without the sarnie.

Adam Boulton

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Favourite election year?

2015, because nobody knows and everything is in play.

Favourite marginal seat?

Littleborough and Saddleworth in 95 was fun. Tatton has been a good story, but it’s not really a marginal. Professor Michael Thrasher says I should go for Watford.

Most memorable political gaffe?

Theirs or mine? The Prescott punch comes to mind. For mine, see below.

Worst on-air moment?

Losing my temper with Alastair Campbell in the aftermath of the 2010 election: he argued it was not in the national interest for Gordon Brown to resign immediately. But I was right and most of the public agreed with me. They usually ask why I didn’t punch him.

Election night survival kit?

Adrenaline and a strong bladder.

Most stylish politician ever?

JFK. Margaret Thatcher found her own unique style.

Suit or tracksuit?

Suit. Giorgio Armani or Chris Kent.

Biggest fashion faux pas?

Brown suit. But that was at another TV channel, and both are dead.

How do you unwind after election night?

I don’t. A few hours’ sleep and it’s on to the election aftermath, which lasted five days last time.

House Of Cards or The West Wing?

Neither. The Good Wife and Game Of Thrones.

Anchorman or Network?

Ron Burgundy rules.

Bacon sandwich or pasty?

Neither. No meat. I wouldn’t say no to a smoked salmon sandwich.

Faisal Islam

Favourite election year?

2015: extraordinary tale of a changing UK with plots and subplots aplenty, and genuine contest.

Favourite marginal seat?

Manchester Withington. My “home” seat, which has swung between all the main parties in my lifetime. I don’t live there now, but it’s close to my heart.

Most memorable political gaffe?

Gordon Brown’s slip of the tongue in parliament: “We have saved the world.” There was the kernel of something legitimate in what he was trying to say, but it came out wrong.

Worst on-air moment?

Failing to speak for about 12 seconds in my first ever live report. It was so bad, it looked like a technical fault.

Election night survival kit?

Spare shirt, toothbrush, mobile battery charger.

Most stylish politician ever?

Gandhi. Through the clothes he wore, he conveyed a transformative message to the world, and changed history.

Suit or tracksuit?

Tracksuit.

Biggest fashion faux pas?

The hi-vis jackets and safety helmets you almost always have to wear when the chancellor wants to do an interview. The goggles are a step too far.

How do you unwind after election night?

The results will be just the start of a gruelling few weeks. But at some point I’ll get to hang out with my daughter, who’s learning to speak.

House Of Cards or The West Wing?

House Of Cards.

Anchorman or Network?

Network, though unlike Peter Finch, I’m not yet mad as hell.

Bacon sandwich or pasty?

Definitely a pasty. I have West Country in-laws, and Greggs’ cheese-and-onion ones are a staple of being northern.

Peter Snow

Favourite election year?

2010: I was uninvolved for the first time and able to sit back and watch it.

Favourite marginal seat?

Basildon, for being the first to prove our exit poll wrong in 1992.

Most memorable political gaffe?

A drunken George Brown, former Labour foreign secretary, reportedly asking the archbishop of Lima to dance.

Worst on-air moment?

A 29% swing in the 1994 Dudley West byelection broke the swingometer.

Election night survival kit?

Pocket calculator, just in case the computer crashes.

Most stylish politician ever?

Megan Lloyd George.

Suit or tracksuit?

Tracksuit.

Biggest fashion faux pas?

Light brown loafers, 1983.

How do you unwind after election night?

A sail on the Solent.

House Of Cards or The West Wing?

The West Wing.

Anchorman or Network?

The Day Today.

Bacon sandwich or pasty?

Pasty.

Krishnan Guru-Murthy

Favourite election year?

97: I was a roving reporter for the BBC, going to election night parties. Jeffrey Archer let us into his flat in time to see Tory grandees leaving, ashen-faced. At the Comedy Store I saw Michael Portillo lose his seat.

Favourite marginal seat?

The three-way marginals, like Great Grimsby, where Labour’s Austin Mitchell could lose to Tory or Ukip.

Most memorable political gaffe?

It’s hard to beat Gordon Brown’s open mic moment about the “bigoted woman” – and the head in the hands when it was played back to him.

Worst on air-moment?

I forgot what I was about to say mid-question while interviewing David Davis. It’s one of those moments almost everyone has in conversation, but you never see on TV. I decided just to admit I had forgotten. He was very gracious and babbled away while I remembered.

Election night survival kit?

I don’t work on election night itself, so comfy sofa, bottle of wine, cake and bed at a reasonable time, so I can do the news on Friday, when the coalition horse-trading begins.

Most stylish politician ever?

Sadly, the days of outrageous dandy MPs such as the disgraced former Liberal leader Jeremy Thorpe have gone.

Suit or tracksuit?

A good suit is better than a tracksuit at hiding how much time I haven’t spent in the gym.

Biggest fashion faux pas?

I had an Ozwald Boateng suit in brown with orange stitching. The then Channel 4 news deputy editor, Peter Barron, told me I looked like a pimp.

How do you unwind after election night?

I don’t. It’s about hitting the ground running afterwards.

House Of Cards or The West Wing?

I’m a sucker for the pace and idealism of The West Wing. Everyone in House Of Cards is so vile.

Anchorman or Network?

Anchorman, obviously. Though I’m probably getting more like Network’s crazed Howard Beale by the day.

Bacon sandwich or pasty?

Bacon sandwich – much easier to eat.

Justin Webb

Favourite election year?

79: I was leaving school and it felt suitably epoch-making.

Favourite marginal seat?

Bath is the city I grew up in. It became a Liberal Democrat seat (don’t ask Chris Patten about this), but this year, with the Lib Dem MP retiring, it’s genuinely up for grabs between the Lib Dems and the Conservatives.

Most memorable political gaffe?

My favourite is Edmund Muskie crying in the snow in New Hampshire in 1972, after his wife was attacked in the press. He said it was snow melting on his face, but no one believed him, and his run for the Democratic presidential candidacy was finished. It’s such a period piece of foolishness: him for losing the plot, and America for being more worried about a man crying than his wife being traduced.

Worst on-air moment?

Asking, in a stressful moment on TV, whether David Blunkett could “see and hear” me. He grinned. I also introduced a piece on breakfast TV, where the stage instructions appeared by mistake on screen, including “councillor Joe Bloggs, far right”.

Election night survival kit?

A producer.

Most stylish politician ever?

Barack Obama.

Suit or tracksuit?

Suit.

Biggest fashion faux pas?

I think I once had a green suit.

How do you unwind after election night?

Sleeeep.

House Of Cards or The West Wing?

House Of Cards.

Anchorman or Network?

Anchorman.

Bacon sandwich or pasty?

Bacon sandwich.

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