We’re coming up on the second week of Champions League semifinals, but there’s someone we need to crown the champion of fanciness already: Juventus midfielder Paul Pogba!
Look, we’ve established that Andrea Pirlo is the suavest man alive, but he’s getting a little long in the tooth and he needs an heir to the throne.
Let’s look at ma bebe Paul, shall we?
See those cheekbones? Those are high-fashion cheekbones. Those are cheekbones that say, “hey, come cool off in the dramatic shadows I cast!”
Ok, okay so let’s address the hair — sure, you can clown it, but look, this is a man who clearly understands the science of aerodynamics.
He’s also clearly uninterested in what you have to say about it – so look, a confident rocket scientist? Sign me up.
There’s also the important matter of personal style. How is it that Pogba didn’t even play in the last Juventus game but still got all eyes on him?
How do you describe it? It’s like musician meets random young rich dude in the club who attracts bottle rats by sheer strength of its je ne sais quoi.
Like, in a club in Miami where nobody knows who he is, his swag would definitely still make women want him for his perceived money.
I’m totally not like that, though, Paul, so when you’re ready for someone who can see through all the outer layers to the tender, youthful genius, appelle-moi! (That’s call me!)