Walking through the Arndale a few afternoons back i was stopped in my tracks by the full window posters of the new Gstar campaign featuring Vincent Gallo. Smouldering in dark denim against hard stone surfaces shot timelessly in black and white, i felt like a fool for having not thought about him since…when was the last time i swooned over The Gallo? How, better yet why the hell did i forget about him?
Regardless of his narcissistic, masoginist and slightly racist views on himself, intercourse and reproduction he’s still ridiculously hot. Yes Lina, especially in those pants.
Being my usual ocd self i have since downloaded all his films, ripped the pictures out of the current Gstar magazine and via the meduim of the internet immersed myself in the deathly Gallo. Beginning with Tetro the fascination didnt get any weaker it even ignited a new flame ( hello Alden Ehrenreich you peppy young Dicaprio look-a-likey you) however i am reminded of how unsatisfying being in a relationship with such a walking hard on actually is, after Buffalo 66 the recollection of said mobile phallic leaves me quite cold and very happy to swoon from afar, there is only one Vincent Gallo anything else is a pale and shallow comparisson…however in closing if i was a billionaire i would buy his jizz and the joyful deployment of it, i would even buy his penthouse….
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