Harry Styles, the dinky boyband poppet turned globe-frotting classic rock pasticheur. Not that I haven’t admired the hair. We can all agree on the hair.
It’s so gorgeous, and glossy, and just… yum. And the ‘fits. Gotta love the ‘fits. Not since, ooh, Jagger-Bowie-Prince-insert-name-of-preferred-gender-bending-pop-ledge has anyone had so much fun with a pot of neon nail polish, a feather boa and a small girl’s blouse.
The sexy, but not too sexy, videos; the toothsome chat show appearances; the commanding red carpet sashays: anyone can see the guy is a pro.
No wonder he has so totally eclipsed his former bandmates in One Direction, none of whose names anyone can remember. Nick? Simon?
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