Never knowlingly not in greige, Kellan Lutz ought not to be afraid of colour. Little rouge on the lips, the clothes come next. Baby steps.
Legs. The legs. Both of them. Pruning around the perineum is one thing, completely Veet-ing your Lindas is downright womanly. Unless you need to save vital milliseconds in the pool.
And it looks like he suffers from the perennial problem faced by those who refuse to carry a bag. Or even a bum-bag. Or even a fanny-pack. Or even a Tilly, three paces behind at all times. Unsightly pockets that detract. It’s an age-old problem as old as time itself, and even older than that. Why do you think the Mesopotamians went tits-up?
Though we like his dog’s two-tone tail. Modern, inventive.
Now for more evidence of Kellan Lutz’s alleged penis…