Last year while we were vacationing in Florida, my 6-year-old asked if she could get a belly shirt. My initial reaction was, “Heck no! A crop top? You’re 6! You’re not showing your belly!”
But then I paused and thought about it. Why? Why wouldn’t I let her show her stomach? We were in the Florida heat, on vacation, sweating profusely. Was I afraid she would be objectified? Was I afraid of being judged by other parents? Was I afraid she’d become a promiscuous teenager if I allowed her to show her tummy at age 6? What was preventing me from allowing her to wear a belly shirt? So I said, “Sure, why not?”
We went to the local Target and got her a “belly shirt.” In reality, it was a cropped exercise tank, and it ultimately only revealed a sliver of her belly. She was ecstatic. She wore it immediately and loved that her belly button was exposed. I have no idea if other parents were judging me, and it’s really none of my business if they did. I did what I always do — kept her close to me when we were out, made sure she didn’t talk to strangers, and allowed her to wear something she wanted to wear. The world didn’t crash around us.
This summer, both girls are obsessed with bikinis. Again, I initially thought, “Heck no!” And then I reconsidered. One main concern was the sun. A bikini means more sun exposure. I wasn’t too happy about that. But I also know they are both willing to be doused in sunscreen. So I said yes. They got bikinis — and long-sleeve rash guards. I told them they could only wear the bathing suit without a rash guard if they were OK with having more sunscreen applied. Sometimes they opt for the rash guard, other times the swimsuit by itself. I allow them the choice of what they want to wear to the pool or the beach, but sunscreen is not optional.
One day last week, my older daughter asked me why boys don’t have to cover their privates when they swim. I was really confused until she elaborated. “Why do girls have to wear tops while boys don’t?” Ahhh, it all made sense. I started to explain the social constructs created by a patriarchal society but then paused and said, “Well, some boys were rash guards when they swim, but you’re right. They don’t cover their chests.” I asked her if she wanted to stop wearing a bathing suit top and she said no — because they are too cute. And that was the end of the discussion — at least for now.
But she was right. Modesty is much more important for women than it is for men in our world.
While I am allowing my girls the freedom to show off their bellies, there are limitations. It has to make sense — a belly shirt in December in New England makes no sense. A belly shirt in July makes total sense. A sports bra or crop top at cheer practice or dance class makes sense. A bikini top on the first day (or any day, really) of school, does not.
I know there are plenty of moms who disagree with me. Their children will never wear a crop top. That is totally fine. That is your child, and your decision. And yes, I understand the fear of sexualizing a young child. But for me, putting a crop top on a kid does not make them sexy, nor does it sexualize them. Putting a crop top on a kid is a fashion choice. It’s a weather choice. It’s a situational choice. It’s a parent’s choice.
So for me, for my girls, I say: Let them wear the crop tops! Especially in this heat!
