When I wore my last tankini, I swore: never again. “I’m a woman now,” I thought, 13 years old, my braces freshly gleaming. “It’s time for me to bear my midriff.” And bear it I have at every beach day since, tirelessly, my belly button perennially sandwiched between triangle tops and hip-huggers, balconets and high-rise bottoms. Until this summer.
Long confined to body-conscious tweens and moms, the tankini top has finally entered the beach-babe-wardrobe pantheon. They’re completely comfortable and designed for full coverage and sun protection without the dreaded one-piece wedgie. They’re perfect for serious recreation, no nip-slips post–swan dive, and easy to swap in and out with various bottoms already in my swimsuit drawer. And they’re versatile — the sporks of swimwear. I’ve just as happily styled them for pool days as I have for nights out.
Call it inner-child work, call it service journalism, I’ve made it my mission to find the tankini top’s platonic ideal. One with a straight neckline and spaghetti straps. No ruching, no gathers, no plunging V, and absolutely no padded bra. I want a silhouette with calm confidence and spiritual integrity with little to no gap between hem and waistband. No crop tops, no bikini in tankini’s clothing. I want a top that’s proud enough to stand on its own with a pair of jean shorts without someone being like, “Why’s that girl wearing a bathing suit out to lunch right now,” crafted in a material that’s appropriately ambiguous but that nonetheless feels like it’s gonna take care of me while I’m body surfing.
