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But Tops wasn't just about high-concept couture. She understood the "Zoom generation" better than anyone. She launched a line of "Digital Armour"—tops with exaggerated textures and bold, saturated colors specifically designed to pop on low-resolution laptop cameras.
Her signature piece, the "Gravity Blouse," used hidden internal wiring to make the collar appear as if it were caught in a permanent gust of wind. It was impractical, expensive, and immediately sold out. tops*fashion
Today, she sits in her studio, surrounded by bolts of charcoal wool and neon silk. She’s no longer just making clothes; she’s editing how the world sees the people wearing them. Her philosophy remains unchanged: life happens from the waist up—the handshakes, the hugs, the toasts, and the glances. But Tops wasn't just about high-concept couture
The story of her breakout show, The Upper Hand , is still whispered about in industry circles. Instead of a traditional runway, Tops lined up fifty models behind a frosted glass wall that only revealed them from the waist up. The audience didn't see shoes, trousers, or skirts. They saw a floating army of architectural linen, pleated organza, and recycled tech-mesh. Her signature piece, the "Gravity Blouse," used hidden
By twenty-four, wasn't just a brand; it was a movement. She didn’t believe in the "complete look." She believed that if you got the top right, the rest of the outfit would fall into place.
But Tops wasn't just about high-concept couture. She understood the "Zoom generation" better than anyone. She launched a line of "Digital Armour"—tops with exaggerated textures and bold, saturated colors specifically designed to pop on low-resolution laptop cameras.
Her signature piece, the "Gravity Blouse," used hidden internal wiring to make the collar appear as if it were caught in a permanent gust of wind. It was impractical, expensive, and immediately sold out.
Today, she sits in her studio, surrounded by bolts of charcoal wool and neon silk. She’s no longer just making clothes; she’s editing how the world sees the people wearing them. Her philosophy remains unchanged: life happens from the waist up—the handshakes, the hugs, the toasts, and the glances.
The story of her breakout show, The Upper Hand , is still whispered about in industry circles. Instead of a traditional runway, Tops lined up fifty models behind a frosted glass wall that only revealed them from the waist up. The audience didn't see shoes, trousers, or skirts. They saw a floating army of architectural linen, pleated organza, and recycled tech-mesh.
By twenty-four, wasn't just a brand; it was a movement. She didn’t believe in the "complete look." She believed that if you got the top right, the rest of the outfit would fall into place.