Dear Crop Tops,
I honestly don’t know how to feel about you. I love you and hate you at the same time. As weird as it sounds, I’m pretty sure there are numerous love songs that can channel what I feel about you. Here’s the thing. You magically reappeared last year and now just about every retail store has you for sale. You were HUGE in the 90s but being that I was only a child back then, crop tops were not in my closet at the time.
But here I am. 22 years old and I have a cluster of you hidden somewhere in the heaps of my clothing. Sometimes I regret it. Sometimes I love it. It’s the worst when you want to wear a pair of jeans but all you have are clean crop tops in the mix of your clothes. No, no, no, no. That’s not going to work. Unlike Kylie Jenner, I cannot rock crop tops the way she does.
Then I found a new way to wear you: either with high-waisted shorts or maxi skirts that hike up just above the belly button. I’m fine with that, but crop tops, from time to time, you make it so hard to style. There are so many moments where I wish I could sew the other half of the shirt to complete my outfit. Believe me, if that were possible, I would. I’m stuck going crazy in my room wishing I had a bod like Kylie.
Crop tops, you make me self-conscious. Right when I figure out a cute outfit to put together and realize the shirt doesn’t cover me all the way, I go right back reevaluating my closet and my body. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who hates it. I have tons of friends who shun crop tops to the darkest place on earth since they also know they’re next to impossible to wear. I honestly give a huge round of applause to anyone and everyone who can rock a crop top with pure confidence. I envy that.
Look, I’m not asking you to disappear. I just needed to express my frustration with you. I do have to give you thanks, however, for when you do happen to work out the way I want it to. For that, I thank you for allowing me to feel good about myself when I do get positive comments pertaining to my outfits. So, I guess I kind of love you. Sometimes.
With love (and hate),
Ash
