In the five months that I covered his short but combustible tenure as Greece’s finance minister, I found something self-consciously cinematic about Yanis Varoufakis. The rebel threads, complete with requisite leather jacket, seemed a bit too tailored. The arrivals at cabinet meetings on a motorcycle a bit too choreographed. The clever turns of phrase — “fiscal waterboarding”, “ponzi austerity” — a bit too scripted. It was as if he was always playing the lead in Yanis Varoufakis: The Movie.
Which is why I’m not too surprised when Varoufakis, on an unseasonably warm Athens day, walks into 17 Restaurant with a bright red scarf tied elegantly around his neck. He certainly doesn’t need it for warmth; it does, however, theatrically complement the jaunty insouciance of the motorcycle helmet draped over his left arm as he strides in, pecking purposefully at his brushed-metal smartphone.
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