Who does this bro think he is? Damn his straight-up handsomeness. Damn his tan and his micro-beard. And damn his all-Needles summer get-up. What’s he fucking looking at over there? I bet nothing. I bet the photographer just said, “tilt your head to one side and look a bit aporetic.” I bet King Handsome up there didn’t even know what aporetic means. I do. I looked it up.

This outfit is straight-up fire. Bit poncy? Get out the van brah. This matchy madness will get the men wanting to punch you and the ladies wanting to kiss you. On the lips and everything.

Check that shirt with its varsity V neckline and tie-dyed natural indigo finish. And the matching shorts. Shit. The top’s 333 quid – that pricing is demanding that my lifestyle sidestep this. I can’t even be bothered to look up the price of the shorts.

Damn that handsome bastard. I think I love him. I can barely bring myself to point out that his Birkies are, like, so last summer.