We’re not even that far into The Rebirth of the Crop Top, and already I don’t know how to handle them.
See, I’m always going to see the strip of skin and roll my eyes and go, “Ugh, crop tops, WHY GOD.” But that makes for boring reading, so I suppose — much like with the reviled jumpsuit — I have to TRY and rank them by their comparative merits. By that logic, this is fine. I like the navy top, and nothing else about it is terrible, and I can’t see her navel. The shoes are good. I love a black toenail, provided it’s from polish and not the funk of a thousand fungi. The abs aren’t really ruining anything. So as crop-top outfits go… it’s at least fab-adjacent. It bought a home on the outskirts of Fabland and is currently fighting with the post office over whether its zip code is zoned into the region or not.