Maya Jama has put on a racy display wearing black underwear for her brand new fashion campaign with Self Portrait.

The Love Island host, 28, showcased her natural beauty in the snaps released on Tuesday, wearing next-to-nothing in one picture where she slipped into a black bra and knickers with a black leather trench coat on top.

Wearing little makeup for the occasion, Maya's lengthy brunette tresses were worn in a waved style and cascaded over her shoulders.

Maya looked gorgeous in the photographs where she posed up a storm for her latest brand deal.

Another picture showed the presenter wearing a bardot-style top which hugged her curvaceous figure and svelte waist.

She wore a natural palette of makeup, with her hair thrown into an up-do and accessorised with a pair of gold chunky hoop earrings.

Maya gave her best sultry stare in another snap, where she wore a lacy see-through bodycon dress which hugged every inch of her frame.

Her hair was styled in a straighter style, and she went makeup-free to show off her natural beauty.

The final shot from the latest campaign was a black and white picture, where she wore a cropped black crochet cardigan with metallic detailing on the buttons.

Her slender frame was on show in the snap ad she wore a pair of denim jeans and a black leather belt which synched in her waist.

Her slicked-back hair-do showed off her photogenic features and the shots really showed her beauty in a toned-down light in comparison to the glamorous looks displayed on Love Island.

It comes after Maya dressed to impress in a glamorous silver gown on Saturday evening as she hosted a lavish boat party following the BRIT Awards.

The Love Island presenter hosted the bash on the River Thames with Coca-Cola, launching their newest Creations product, a limited-edition drink called Movement

She looked incredible in the dazzling off the shoulder number which boasted a bold thigh high split.

Turning up the heat, the beauty added inches to her frame in a pair of towering strappy coordinated heels and accessorised with small hoop earrings.

Maya pulled her long dark tresses back in a chic updo and applied a flawless palette of makeup including to accentuate her beauty.

The beauty flashed her gorgeous smile as she made her way up the Savoy Pier following the star-studded evening.

Taking to the water, the night to remember was attended by guests including Jesse Lingard, AJ Odudu, Snoochie Shy, Chunks, Poet, Tiffany Calver, Craig Mitch and Mira May.

Coca-Cola Creations is the brand’s innovation platform delivering new product expressions driven by collaboration, creativity, and cultural connections.

The new product was developed in collaboration with Grammy-award winning artist, Rosalía.

Danny Hall, Senior Brand Manager at Coca-Cola said, 'Movement is the fourth Coca-Cola Creations limited edition that we’ve dropped in GB, and we wanted to do something special to mark its release.

'Partnering with Maya Jama’s Cling Cling Presents to develop a moving party filled with music and creativity was the perfect way to launch the product and celebrate the transformational power of music.'

Earlier in the evening Maya flaunted her figure at the BRIT Awards on the red carpet at the O2 Arena in London.

The TV host looked sensational and slipped into a figure-hugging strapless black dress for her red carpet arrival.

Her quirky frock boasted a bejewelled gold skeleton design that highlighted her ample cleavage and gorgeous curves.

Maya strutted her stuff in a pair of gold heels and completed the look with a pair of statement making earrings.

She oozed confidence as she posed for the cameras before heading inside to the star-studded ceremony.

Also at the event the former Love Island host Laura Whitmore and the show's new presenter Maya appeared to ignore each other while at the same table at the BRIT Awards.

The awkward moment happened as stars from the music world gathered for the annual event.

Pictures and video show the two women stood directly next to each other at the ITV table - but they only seem to be interested in speaking to othe

Strike a pose: Maya posed in front of Coca Cola branded billboards while taking to the water

There’s less than a month left until we know the name of Britain’s next prime minister.

And now the candidates’ minds must be turning to that long-anticipated moment when the winner will walk through the famous black door and up the staircase, past the framed photographs of their 55 predecessors.

In truth, many of those names — the Duke of Grafton, Viscount Goderich, the Earl of Shelburne — are now entirely forgotten. But when our new prime minister reaches the pictures from the 1970s, he or she should pause for thought.

Here, for example, is Edward Heath, whose premiership was destroyed by an energy crisis, surging prices and industrial unrest. Here is Harold Wilson, apparently powerless to stop inflation. Here is James Callaghan, felled by public anger at falling living standards and crippling strikes.

And here, too, is Margaret Thatcher, who ruthlessly profited from her predecessors’ failures, winning a thumping victory in 1979 with a promise to slash inflation, lighten the tax burden, end the strikes and revive people’s faith in Britain itself.

For both Liz Truss and Rishi Sunak, Mrs Thatcher represents an ideological lodestar. Mr Sunak has explicitly promised to ‘govern as a Thatcherite’, though the polls suggest he may not be given the chance.

Miss Truss, meanwhile, has consciously modelled herself on the Iron Lady, even copying the outfit from her final campaign broadcast in 1979.

Why Margaret Thatcher? There’s an obvious reason: she won three elections and, even years after her death, remains very popular with the Tory rank and file.

But perhaps there’s a further reason. The problems Mrs Thatcher promised to address in the late 1970s — high inflation, surging oil prices, a stagnant economy and a sclerotic, struggling state — are remarkably similar to those we confront today.

History never repeats itself precisely, of course, even if the current heatwave feels uncannily reminiscent of the record-breaking summer of 1976, complete with drought warnings, water shortages and hosepipe bans.

But when you look at today’s headlines, from the rocketing prices in the supermarkets to this weekend’s railway strike, it’s hard to miss the parallels with the age of Slade, Space Hoppers and the Sex Pistols.

Perhaps the most obvious example is the spectacle of an energy crisis driven by a foreign war, brutally laying bare Britain’s dependence on supplies from abroad.

Today it’s Vladimir Putin’s invasion of Ukraine. Back then it was the Arab nations’ stunning surprise attack on Israel in October 1973, which saw the Opec oil cartel raise prices by 17 per cent to punish the West for backing the Israelis.

In both cases, experts had warned for years that Britain had become dangerously reliant on overseas suppliers and had neglected to maintain its own energy security. But in both cases, nobody listened until it was too late.

Then, as now, the consequences for ordinary families could scarcely have been more dramatic.

Facing the prospect of massive winter power cuts, Edward Heath instructed people to lower their thermostats to a maximum of 17c, and street lights were dimmed to half-strength.

But when the miners, claiming that their wages had been eroded by surging inflation, went on strike for higher pay, Heath went even further, ordering Britain’s shops, offices and factories to move to a three-day working week.

As older readers will remember, Heath paid a heavy price for his inability to resolve the crisis. When he called an election in February 1974 to decide ‘who governs’ — Downing Street or the unions — the result was a hung parliament, and he was out on his ear.

Although there’s a grim lesson there for the next Tory leader, the story of the early 1970s is also a reminder of what’s changed.

Today’s rail strikes may be intensely infuriating. But the hard Leftists behind them aren’t remotely as powerful as their predecessors were in the Heath years, when the general secretaries were forever trooping into Downing Street for the proverbial beer and sandwiches with the PM.

Of course that may change, especially if soaring household and utility bills provoke further pay demands from other unions. But just as in the mid-1970s, the really corrosive problem is inflation. In this respect, I worry that few Tory politicians — many of whom are far too young to recall life back then — grasp how dangerous the situation is.

When I wrote about the perils of inflation in the Daily Mail last autumn, I noted that it was currently 3 per cent and likely to hit 4 per cent by the end of 2021. But how quickly things change! Today, the latest projections suggest that it will peak at an agonising 13 per cent, and may go even higher, if there are further shocks overseas.

That won’t be surprising to anybody who remembers the 1970s: an object lesson in how, when inflation gets going, it’s appallingly difficult to stop.

Prices had been rising since the start of the decade, with an annual rate of 6 per cent in 1970, 7 per cent in 1972 and 9 per cent in 1973. Then, with the outbreak of war in the Middle East, they really went through the roof.

For ordinary British families, the results were devastating.

In just 12 months, the price of electricity went up by 66 per cent, tinned soup by 54 per cent, orange squash by 51 per cent and coal by 47 per cent. The price of carrots went up by 137 per cent; sugar, incredibly, by 184 per cent.

Why wasn’t there mass unrest? The answer is that from the spring of 1974, Harold Wilson’s Labour government simply handed out gigantic public-sector pay deals, with power workers winning 31 per cent, civil servants 32 per cent and doctors 35 per cent.

As a result, inflation became endemic, hitting a post-war record of 27 per cent in August 1975. The costs fell most heavily on people who could ill afford it: the poorest, the elderly, those living alone — their incomes stagnant as prices rocketed. As Britain’s GDP fell two years in a row, living standards sank with it. By December 1977, the average couple took home less money, in real terms, than they had four years earlier.

What should really alarm our incoming prime minister is that inflation is not merely an economic issue. It’s a moral issue, eroding thrift and breaking the unwritten contract between savers and the state. And as the 1970s proved, it’s politically poisonous, driving a wedge between savers and borrowers, old and young, those represented by trade unions and those dependent on fixed incomes.

As so often with a deep-seated disease, the cure was almost as painful as the symptoms. For although Thatcher wrung it out of the system eventually, she only did it by applying the most stringent medicine, with interest rates peaking at an excruciating 17 per cent at the end of 1979. A repeat performance today wouldn’t just blow the housing market to pieces. It would lead to a tidal wave of repossessions and see thousands of families driven into destitution.

Of course there’s no need to assume the worst. Even after the latest rise, today’s Bank of England interest rate is just 1.75 per cent.

But there’s another parallel which should trouble us — namely, the sense of inaction and exhaustion hanging over Westminster this summer, from Keir Starmer’s waxwork act to the intellectual vacuum at the top of the Tory Party.

Back in 1975, with prices soaring week by week, many observers were shocked at Westminster’s failure to take decisive action. ‘Why Are We Waiting?’ thundered one headline. ‘Isn’t it obvious that the Government MUST act against inflation? That we CAN’T go on like this?’

But as Harold Wilson’s policy chief, Bernard Donoughue, wrote in his diary, they seemed to have ‘no more interest, no more ideas, no appetite for power’. There was, he thought, an inevitable sense of ‘erosion and final decline’.

That feels very familiar today. From inflation to housing, energy to productivity, neither Left nor Right seems to have any sense of vision or drive, let alone the determination to bring lasting change.

In an unsparing essay for this week’s Spectator magazine, the writer John Oxley eviscerates the Conservative Party, his own natural home, for its dearth of new ideas.

‘Rather than principles or goals,’ he writes, ‘the Tory Party today lives for day-to-day reactions to the things that catch its eye.’

All too often it seems ‘listless, incapable and slightly baffled by the power it holds’.

We can all think of examples. The worsening housing crisis, with many young couples unable to afford a home of their own, is particularly glaring.

In this, too, there is a 1970s parallel. By the end of the decade, many had become frustrated at Labour’s refusal to let them buy their rented council houses. And when Mrs Thatcher promised them the right to buy, young voters poured into the Tory ranks.

Indeed, first-time voters were some of her most enthusiastic supporters in 1979 — a stark contrast with the electoral demography today.

The message on her posters read starkly: ‘Labour Isn’t Working.’ And that sense of dysfunction, above all, is the most striking parallel between then and now.

‘Almost nothing seems to be working in Britain,’ read the headline of a recent doom-laden essay in the Economist.

Perhaps that’s a bit overstated. As Stephen Glover wrote this week in the Mail, there are plenty of things that work well, and we tend to forget that other European countries are facing the same challenges (and some have even higher inflation rates, believe it or not).

But there is, I think, a palpable sense that things in Britain have become desperately stretched. Nine out of ten NHS dental practices, for example, are no longer accepting new adult patients.

Even more glaringly, Thursday’s NHS figures showed that almost 1,000 patients are having to wait at least 12 hours in A&E every day — the worst performance on record. And heart attack and stroke victims have to wait, on average, 59 minutes — which could mean the difference between life and death.

Perhaps it’s no wonder, then, that in some quarters there seems to be an existential loss of faith in Britain itself. As in the 1970s, younger voters would be forgiven for wondering if our best days are behind us, and whether they’ll ever have the same opportunities as their parents.

All in all, then, Britain’s 56th prime minister will face an in-tray overflowing with challenges.

So what next?

Well, the 1970s offer two possible scenarios. In the first, a tired, threadbare, divided Tory government will stagger to inevitable defeat in 2024, just as Jim Callaghan’s Labour administration did in 1979.

Soaring food prices and crippling energy bills will take a punishing toll on their electoral support. Few ruling parties prosper in hard times, and as a result, the new PM will go down in history as little more than an afterthought.

But there’s another, more optimistic scenario. The two candidates talk of channelling Margaret Thatcher. The lesson of her time in office is that with dynamism, decisiveness, vision and clarity, a truly reforming Tory government can push through painful changes, and still be rewarded for it.

Can they do it, though? Can they banish the torpor and heal the divisions? Do they have a genuine vision for public sector reform and coherent plans to help people weather the inflationary tempest?

Can they slash waiting times and build new homes? And perhaps above all, can they give ordinary men and women reasons to be proud of Britain and cheerful about the prospects ahead?

We’ll soon find out. But the stakes could hardly be higher — not just for the new PM, or even for the Tory Party, but for Britain itself.

Clarks, one the UK's oldest shoe chains, has been rescued in a £100 million investment by Hong Kong-based private equity giant LionRock Capital.

The deal will see the 195-year-old retailer enter into a form of administration known as a Company Voluntary Arrangement (CVA), with Clarks insisting that no jobs will be lost and staff will continue to be paid.

Bosses said the move will allow them to keep all 320 stores open with no rent on 60 sites.

Clark: 195-year-old firm founded by Quakers that is best known for the Desert Boot

Clarks was established in Street, Somerset, in 1825 when Quakers Cyrus and James Clark moved from making rugs out of sheepskin to footwear by using the off cuts to produce slippers.

More than 22,000 Clarks styles have been produced since, and the chain is perhaps best known for its Desert Boot made of calf suede leather.

More than ten million of the boot were made after Nathan Clark came up with the idea while serving as an officer in the Royal Army Service Corps in Burma during the Second World War in 1941.

They have since been worn by the likes of Liam Gallagher, Bob Dylan, Robbie Williams and even Tony Blair.

It enjoyed a boom in the 2000s as sales of the boots soared and had pre-tax profits of more than £100million.

But the company has been hit in recent years by the decline of the high street which has intensified in recent months thanks to the lockdown that closed all its stores between late March and July.

The business relocated the bulk of its production to Asia in 2005 and shut its last remaining British plant in 2006.

The remaining outlets will be switched to a turnover-based model, where rent is calculated on the amount of cash that goes through the tills, but the process must be voted through by landlords at a meeting next month.

Philip de Klerk, interim finance chief at Clarks, said: 'In order to address the permanent shift in structural shopping behaviour as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic, the CVA is being launched out of absolute necessity.

'The proposal to creditors outlines a combination of a reduction of rent and a move to rebase Clarks' rental cost base through a turnover-based model that aligns to future performance and reflects the wider retail market.

'As part of the CVA, we will move 60 of our 320 stores to nil rent. It is important to stress that we are not announcing the closure of any stores today, and employees and suppliers will continue to be paid.'

If successful in a vote next month, LionRock will buy a majority stake in Clarks, with the Clark family to remain invested in the business.

That would see the Clark family lose majority ownership of the company for the first time since it was founded by Cyrus and James Clark in 1825.

Gavin Maher, a partner at Deloitte, which is running the CVA process, said: 'The retail trading environment in the UK has been under pressure for some time.

'The Clarks UK business has been faced with weaker consumer confidence and reduced footfall.

'In the midst of Clarks undertaking its transformation plan, Covid-19 exacerbated these challenges, with working capital and turnover significantly impacted, placing acute liquidity pressure on the group.

'The turnover rent model better aligns the risk and reward of trading during these uncertain times, and the CVA, together with the proposed investment from LionRock, provides a stable platform upon which the management's transformation strategy can be delivered.'

The company is the latest in a long line of high street firms which have turned to insolvency specialists to avoid complete collapse.

Retailers including New Look, Jigsaw and Edinburgh Woollen Mill have all used insolvency processes to reduce debts as struggling stores buckled under the pandemic pressures and restrictions on high streets.

Restaurants and bars have also turned to CVAs, with Pizza Express, Revolution Bars and Pizza Hut all using the insolvency tool.

Daniel Tseung, founder and managing director of LionRock Capital, said: 'Clarks is one of the world's most recognised consumer names and we look forward to working with the Clark family in extending its tradition of providing customers with top-quality products and exceptional service.'

Last week, the footwear retailer, based in Somerset, announced it had begun talks with landlords about shop closures and rent reductions with hundreds of jobs reportedly at risk.