Road Test : The Crop Top

Not something you thought you might see in a fifty year olds blog.  Probably something you think you shouldn’t see.  I get that.

But once a fashion tragic, always a fashion tragic.  I’m an Aries, the process of new and renewal is part of my astrological makeup.  Combine that with having a mother who’s seasonal catch-all when considering what to buy or wear, still is at 73, “it’s in fashion”.  Three words that have been used to excuse all manner of outfits that in hindsight maybe weren’t fit to go out at all.

So I haven’t been able to help but be drawn to the revised version of crop that has crept up on torsos the past couple of years.  And creeping up, as it was, is a more fortunate and forgiving direction than its predecessor.   Which is how clever fashion is.  Everything old is new again, but not quite like it used to be.  A good business model, literally, as we have to buy new things.  But also, emotionally, because if regret is fresh, then it just tweaks the concept in a new direction, enough that we can think this time it might be different.

This time, the crop comes from the top and not the bottom which I think makes it more feasible.  Whereas few have ever done enough crunches and superhuman plank holds to bare their lower stomach, even the least super of model mortals can afford a peek of rib-skin.  And peek is the operative word.

To explain, here’s my inspiration in the middle of this pic.


And here’s my rendition.


Sporting a Net-A-Porter sale purchase, a crop white leather Theyskens Theory top.  On the bottom, the higher waist of the ‘Romance Was Born’ pants comes into its own to cover up the wobbly baby bits.  The jacket, just adds emotional comfort and allows for cover up, if the short top doesn’t quite work in the real world the way my ‘mutton-meter’ is hoping for.  I also like that I got to take my new Toga Pulla shoes for a night out and they are so comfortable.

It got past husband, who hadn’t been on board at the conceptual level.  It didn’t seem to create any raised eyebrows insinuating ‘oh, no, she’s deluded herself again’ when I got to the venue.  It survived the dignified part of the night in a dignified manner.

To be honest, the unexpected later evening revelries put modesty in its place and I could have done without the photos to prove how much upper stomach shows when dancing.  Which leaves me thinking that ultimately, the concept wasn’t flawed, but the wearer most certainly is.

Feel free to pass your own judgement.