Harry Styles ripped his pants while performing on stage in LA this week. That’s it. That’s the story.
One Direction’s most successful member (it’s just facts, OK) was midway through singing ‘Music for a Sushi Restaurant’ in Inglewood, California when he dropped to one knee and tore his pants in the spot where you don’t want to tear them.
Harry tore his presumably very-expensive-but-also-probably-not-paid-for leather pants right in the crotch. Here’s Harry letting it rip from a few different angles for good measure:
honestly ripping his pants when his crotch is like 10 ft from ppl’s faces is one of the most harry styles things to ever happen to him pic.twitter.com/rvl2Ef56wt
As you can see, Harry promptly covered the tear — don’t blame him, have you seen how horny people can get in those crowds? — and laughed it off before finishing out the performance with a towel hiding the rip.
I am holding myself back from making any jokes about towels.
But that recovery? Harry, you continue to impress literally everyone. I would’ve stopped the show, given everyone refunds and cried for the next week wondering why in the hell I decided to swear beige Spanx for the occasion.
The videos are too blurry to tell, but I imagine everyone’s favourite person was wearing crisp Calvins or something otherwise impressive.
The audience for the night included the likes of , , and a person who used to host something called .
On said show, Harry admitted that Jennifer was his first celebrity crush, so I’m sure it was a hoot having that happen in front of her. I don’t know.
Do “embarrassing” moments become a little less embarrassing when you become disgustingly famous and pined over by the wider population?
But Jennifer has posted about Harry to her Instagram Stories a few times, like the time she wore she same Gucci set for as he wore to the 2021 Brit Awards, and when he wore the same shirt she wore as Rachel on
Add to that the fact that she was at his concert, and I’d say the admiration goes both ways.
My thoughts? Let it rip, Harry. Jennifer doesn’t care. And I imagine a bunch of other people don’t either. At least not in the way you might think.
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Chantelle Schmidt is a freelance writer. You can follow her here.
