Just a few observations about Bardot tops, of which I wore a lot this summer.
Do you realise how difficult it is for a gal with blonde, curly hair to wear a black Bardot top without attracting jokes about Sandy from Grease? Incredibly difficult, let me tell you. Because if you’re going to take the risk and wear a black off-the-shoulder top, you better believe that numerous people will start singing the soundtrack to you. I don’t even like that movie that much. Controversial, perhaps, but I’m not one for musicals, and now I dislike it even more because of the jokes that hound me every time I wear this bloody top. As someone who dislikes fancy dress even more than I dislike musicals, the idea of me purposefully dressing as a character from a musical is difficult to stomach. And this just happened to be the SUMMER OF BARDOT for me, or, in other words, the Summer of the Basic Bitch because I fully embraced the Bardot.
Another observation about the Bardot top: nothing says friendship like your nearest and dearest agreeing to look at you trying on a top in multiple different light settings and telling you whether or not your nipples are inappropriately visible. Turns out that daylight is incredibly revealing (duh), and that a top worn perfectly respectably in dim lighting the night before will not have you covered the next morning.
A final observation: if you, like me, are one for large physical gestures (nothing dirty, I mean flailing my arms to make a point), then the Bardot is the equivalent of a prison for your arms. I mean seriously, I never knew how much I used my arms until I had them pinned to my sides by this sucker.
And yet, despite all of this I will, of course, continue to wear this and continue to confine my arms and expose my nipples. But I will not take your jokes about Sandy.