Sometimes the back of my daughter’s shirt is tucked into her leggings, pulling the front taut against her belly with a millimeter of skin visible at the waistband. Sometimes it’s knotted on the side. Once it was just a size too small; a covert mission had successfully liberated it from the donation bag in the dining room.

For the past six months, ever since she saw a friend wear one at school , my daughter has been obsessed with crop tops. She’s 5.

The whole idea of my young daughter wearing a midriff-baring tee makes me queasy. It’s not the shirt itself but what it represents. I cannot explain to her why simply wearing some trendy item of clothing makes her vulnerable in ways I never want her to understand — and I’m confident that any attempts to explain why could cause psycholo

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