It is my belief that most women either love their torsos or love their legs and the alternate tends to be their trouble zone and bane of their existence- much like fitted sheets are to me. Then I guess there are those handful of you bitches who can’t even comprehend what a “problem area” is. I am not one of those, so read on and continue not hating me. From the time I put on my first pair of tights for ballet class, I cursed my thighs. I always longed for gazelle like legs, but instead was blessed with a set of sturdier stems. A guy I was once dating nearly got clocked for calling them “healthy.” Wrong answer, bro.
When the crop top came back in to heavy rotation this year, I really couldn’t have been more thrilled, unless someone told me there was a new way to make millions while simply drinking rosé and people watching. You see, the chances of the crop top returning to relevance again and my being of age appropriateness overlapping are quite slim. It’s kind of like a blue moon and I’m sure there’s some statistician out there who could calculate the odds, but I cried to my statistics professor to avoid failing, so I’m not your girl. Point is: you give me an opportunity to wear a crop top, and I’m taking it. Like here and here and, well, now here.
jacket: Diane von Furstenberg (similar here), top: American Apparel, pants: 7 for All Mankind, shoes: B Brian Atwood, sunglasses: Chloe, bracelets: Alex and Ani, bag: vintage (similar here)
So, if you’re sick of seeing me in crop tops, blame Jenn Seracuse… and my parents.
Photo credit: Michael Stiegler