“C’est moi! The trademarked mascot of a French tire company,” you’ll shout as you roll down a hill in this perfectly round overcoat. Just as all the men of Michelin before you, you’ll radiate a cheeky sexual energy as you pass by, leaving more questions than answers in your puffy wake. What’s under all those perfect roles? A human body? A dark secret? Air? You’ll never tell! You’re an alluring tire pile.