Julián Álvarez has always let his feet do the talking. Now, it turns out, his skin says just as much.
In a recent interview, the Argentine striker revealed that he was the only player in the national team without a tattoo. “I don’t do it to be different,” he said. “When I was a kid, my dad told us: ‘No tattoos, no cigarettes, no alcohol.’ Today, as I have grown up, everyone decides, but I don’t feel the need.”
At 25, Álvarez has played alongside a generation of players where ink isn’t just common, it’s practically part of the uniform. From Lionel Messi’s sleeve and leg pieces to Ángel Di María’s World Cup tribute and Rodrigo De Paul’s chest art, Argentina’s locker room is a mural of personal stories etched in black and gray. Even among teenagers coming through Argentina’s U-17 ranks, tattoos are already commonplace.
And it doesn’t stop there. Álvarez’s new teammates at Atlético Madrid are equally inked. Griezmann, Depay, Correa, De Paul—all marked by their own iconography, from lions to scripture to family portraits. At Manchester City, he was surrounded by the likes of Ederson and Grealish, whose ink is as prominent as their play. The norm is skin as canvas. The outlier is the one without it.
A clean canvas in a culture of ink
The absence of tattoos on Álvarez isn’t a rebellion. It’s restraint. A choice rooted in upbringing and carried into stardom. In a football culture where personal expression often bleeds through needle and ink, Álvarez expresses himself in the rarest way—by abstaining.
The fan reaction has mirrored that. Rather than being seen as aloof or old-fashioned, Álvarez has been praised for keeping things simple. For being, as one fan wrote, “pure football.”
It makes him a curious contrast to his peers, especially in Argentina, where tattoos have become post-victory rituals. Di María inked the World Cup trophy on his thigh. Messi, once hesitant, now sports sleeves, a tattoo of Jesus, and tributes to his children. For many players, the ink is biographical. Family. Faith. Glory.
That’s what makes Álvarez’s decision feel so countercultural. In a squad where even teenagers are fully tattooed, his bare arms and legs stand out. Not in a performative way, but in the quiet way that simplicity always does.
Across the game, tattoo abstainers are few but notable. Cristiano Ronaldo has long refused ink so he can regularly donate blood. Mo Salah and N’Golo Kanté have also kept their skin untouched, citing personal or religious reasons. But they are exceptions, not trendsetters.
In that light, Álvarez isn’t just resisting a style trend. He’s resisting a mode of storytelling. He wears his achievements on his boots, not his skin. And in a culture where the latter has become default, that choice feels almost radical.
There’s something fitting about it. Álvarez has never seemed concerned with the spotlight. He shuns drama, avoids the trappings of celebrity, and speaks plainly about his goals. The clean skin matches the clean game—direct, focused, unembellished.
Maybe that’s why the moment landed so hard with fans. In a sport obsessed with aesthetics, here’s a star who doesn’t wear any. The message? Not everything needs to be marked to be meaningful.
