The hairstylist responsible for Argentina’s most famous sideburns believes people don’t always vote based on what they hear: “They vote with what they see.” With that in mind, Lilia Lemoine used her scissors to turn the man she wants as the country’s next president – wild-haired celebrity economist Javier Milei – into what she considers an irresistible proposition: a South American fusion of Elvis Presley and the adamantium-clawed mutant Wolverine. “He looks like Wolverine. He acts like Wolverine. He’s like an anti-hero,” explained Lemoine, a professional cosplayer who is the image consultant for the eccentric hard-right libertarian seemingly poised to lead the region’s second largest economy. Lemoine, whose stage name is Lady Lemon, saw striking similarities between Milei and the volatile Marvel character who inspired his unconventional side-whiskers. “[Wolverine] is very loyal and brave … He can get really mad and be aggressive with his enemies – but only when he’s attacked. He will never ever kill someone or attack someone for no reason,” the 43-year-old said, insisting Milei also had a softer side. “He’s adorable. He opens the door for you. He always speaks in a nice tone,” Lemoine claimed, producing a pair of nail scissors she once used to give Milei’s mop an emergency trim. Limoine isn’t alone in adoring a political newcomer who found fame on racy television talk shows where he scrutinized the economy and evangelized about tantric sex, before entering politics in 2021. Polls suggest the self-proclaimed “anarcho-capitalist” will defeat his main rivals – the Peronist finance minister Sergio Massa and the former security minister Patricia Bullrich – in next Sunday’s election, although a November run-off is likely. “It’s hard to predict and I could tell you all the reasons he might lose. But I think if you were a betting man, you’d have to put your money on Milei,” said Benjamin Gedan, the head of the Wilson Centre’s Argentina Project. Gedan rejected the idea that Milei’s popularity was proof of a major conservative shift like the one that saw Milei’s far-right ally, Jair Bolsonaro, elected in Brazil in 2018. Voters were not flocking to Milei because of his anti-abortion views or plans for drastic spending cuts. Rather, they saw him as a renegade from outside Argentina’s venal political “caste” who could end decades of economic mismanagement and corruption by demolishing the political establishment and building something new. “It isn’t the ideas that are appealing. It’s plague on both your houses populism,” Gedan said. “It’s literally a cry of rage.” The prospect of a Milei presidency has thrilled millions of supporters and horrified detractors who fear the foul-mouthed populist could wreak further havoc on a nation already reeling from a 40% poverty rate and annual inflation of 138%. “More than Milei’s ideas, what worries me is his state of mind and emotional stability,” said Juan Luis González, the author of an unauthorized biography which takes Milei’s nickname as its title: El Loco (The Madman). The book – which Limoine dismissed as “shit” – portrays Milei as an unhinged loner who was bullied and beaten as a child and gets political advice from four cloned mastiff dogs named after libertarian thinkers such as Murray Rothbard. “They’re very good advisers, don’t you think?” chuckled Lemoine, declining to deny or confirm that claim. On the campaign trail, Milei has appalled critics by calling human-driven climate change “a socialist lie”, accusing the pope of sympathizing with “murderous communists”, downplaying the crimes of Argentina’s dictatorship, and brandishing a chainsaw. His more radical ideas include abolishing the central bank and dollarizing the economy, legalizing the sale of organs, loosening gun laws, and shunning Argentina’s biggest trading partners, China and Brazil. “It would be truly catastrophic,” said the agriculture secretary, Juan José Bahillo, claiming the latter proposal would cost Argentina $25bn and hundreds of thousands of jobs. The mere prospect of a Milei presidency is already causing economic upheaval. Argentina’s peso has plunged against the dollar in recent weeks – something experts partly blame on Milei’s attacks on a currency he says is worth less than “excrement”. “Even when he’s the cause of economic problems right now, he’s also the beneficiary. And the worse things get – and they are getting worse – the greater the chances that voters turn to Milei,” Gedan said. Juan Grabois, a prominent leftist who likens Milei to the Pied Piper of Hamelin, said electing this “figure of chaos” would have dire consequences for a nation already experiencing its worst financial crisis since the 2001 meltdown. The poor would suffer most. Nevertheless, Grabois said he understood perfectly why many downtrodden informal workers – including many of his own voters – were drawn to Milei, having been “economically destroyed” by the two traditional political forces that have governed for the past two decades. “Everyone’s tired. There’s a sort of suicidal temptation,” said Grabois, who supports Massa’s Peronist coalition. “It’s not that they think Milei will win and everything will improve. It’s that they want everything to go to hell. It’s about scorching the earth and starting from scratch.” “They have nothing to lose,” Grabois added. “You say: ‘We’ll be plunged into the abyss’. But they’re already in the abyss … there’s nothing beneath that.” Milei allies express similar sentiments. “Lots of people say Milei is a leap into the dark,” said Fernando Cerimedo, the digital marketing guru running Milei’s communications. “And lots of people reply: ‘OK, I’ll leap into the dark then since I already know the others are just going to fuck me. They’ve spent the past 20 years bankrupting me, so I prefer to leap into the dark.’” Other Mileístas hail their leader as a genuine inspiration, a charismatic life coach whose books and broadcasts have allowed them to glimpse a more prosperous future. At his home in Villa Sondati, a working-class area on the fringes of Buenos Aires, Francisco Jiménez beamed with enthusiasm as he explained how Milei’s aspirational conservative message had helped him escape poverty in a shantytown where he said many locals had grown over-dependent on benefits or scavenged for food in the trash. “When I first heard Milei talk it was like: ‘Boom!’ He revolutionized my mind,” said the 30-year-old delivery driver whose insulated Rappi bag features a badge reading “The Anti-Communist Social Club”. Jiménez’s wife, Ariana Torres Pamela, agreed. “He changed the way I think. I used to be so conformist – then I started listening to Milei and realized … things could be so much better.” Torres, a mother-of-three who earns about $180 a month as a hospital cleaner, admitted life was still tough with prices constantly rising. Her fridge contained six hot-dogs, nine eggs and half an onion. But “Milei’s ideals” had convinced the family they could forge ahead. “We want a country our kids don’t have to leave to study or find work,” like the 170,000 Venezuelan migrants who have moved to Argentina in recent years fleeing their country’s economic collapse, said Torres, 31. Three posters in the couple’s lounge revealed their millennial musical tastes: Gorillaz, Red Hot Chili Peppers and Foo Fighters. A fourth decoration offered a more disturbing insight into Milei’s rightwing movement: a yellow Gadsden flag hanging from the front door with the image of a rattlesnake and the slogan: ‘Don’t tread on me!’. The American Revolution-era banner, which is used by the US far right, is also a symbol of Milei’s battle for power. Lemoine, who is running for a seat in congress with Milei’s party, La Libertad Avanza (Freedom Advances), said the movement’s adoption of the flag was misunderstood and simply represented the “eternal vigilance for freedom”. “Libertarians don’t care who you make business with and we don’t care who you sleep with ... as long as you don’t tread [on] our liberties,” she added, denying Milei was an extremist. But there are close links between Milei and major players in the global far right, including the Spanish party Vox, Donald Trump and Bolsonaro. Cerimedo has known Bolsonaro’s congressman son, Eduardo, for over a decade and worked on the 2018 campaign that brought Bolsonaro to power. During that election, Cerimedo admitted Bolsonaro’s spin doctors had duped citizens into supporting a veteran politician they painted as something new. “Jair Bolsonaro was sold to the population as an outsider. But he wasn’t an outsider – he’d been in politics for years,” said the social media expert, insisting: “Javier really is an outsider.” As she prepared to style Milei’s sideboards for the final televised debate, Lemoine claimed his election would represent a crucial victory over leftist “delinquents” supposedly seeking to turn Latin America into the Soviet Union. “[He’ll be] the best [president] in history.” A few miles away in a shantytown called Villa 21-24, social activist Mirna Concepción Florentín disagreed. Concepción also sensed many locals would vote Milei, despite living in a traditional Peronist stronghold. “People see him on TV and they see a magician, a sorcerer,” she lamented during a tour of the ramshackle community whose residents have borne the brunt of Argentina’s slump. But as Concepción showed off the soup kitchen many residents depend on to eat – and which she feared could close if Milei wins – the activist offered an alternative take. “I see a fake, an impostor,” she said. “Someone dreadful who will harm both the people and the nation.”