We all know who he is—or do we? On the cover of his self-titled album Harry Styles is rather naked and definitely distressed: the singer bares his back to us in a pool of murky pink water, his downcast head inside cupped hands, a soaking wet study in vulnerability and penitence. The face, hair, and tattooed torso adored by millions across the globe are hidden almost with a trace of shame; the overall impression this image leaves is that of the star’s sensitivity as opposed to sexiness, Continue reading →