Cue the studio audience’s gasps, I’m back with more fashion anxiety.

A few weeks ago, we went over the fact that I look far, far too deep into the social implications of wearing a fanny pack. That's the type of thing that occupies my mind on a midweek afternoon.

That’s not the only social anxiety I have revolving around clothes though. Let me introduce you to C R O P T O P S.

Crop tops are a nice little clothing option that I cannot stop buying no matter how much time I spend actively making sure that no one sees me outside of the house in one. In my active pursuit to become a little bit gayer every second that I’m alive, crop tops seemed like a natural evolution for my brand. I mean, I saw the Advanced Gays walking around wearing them like it was nothing, so of course, I needed to do that too.

Thus, the first thing I did was buy the first male crop top that I could find at $40. We’re not going to talk any longer about that — just know that I am ashamed. I did not sort the price by low-to-high. Anywho, this was a very exciting time for me, a big leap into my gay future, right? Well, then the crop top arrived at my door.

I like to refer to the models for the top as Model Gays. Let’s just say that they have very different body types than me. Thus, I was slightly surprised to find that the crop top was a lot more “crop” than I was expecting, with very little “top” to speak of. So, I was a little alarmed. I was expecting a nice baby crop to ease me in, you know, nothing too major. Instead, I was thrust in at the deep end, exposing a lot more of myself than I was prepared to. Alright, this is fine. Beyonce wears these with ease, so I can too. I feel confident, let’s just … “go for it,” I thought; not wearing this thing until three months after I bought it.

Wow, was wearing this out of the house for literally five seconds a disaster. You know that when you bring a jacket with you — just in case — in the middle of April in Arizona, things are not going well.

That jacket was on for basically my entire day. My day consisted of finishing a final at school before heading to the mall to spend money that I didn’t have. I walked into one classroom without the jacket on and that was it. I was done right there. The Straights’ stares pierced me so hard I felt like Nicki Minaj at Ariana Grande’s Coachella set (sorry, still trying to become gayer, so the analogies have to follow suit). I just couldn’t do it.

The mall-goers were not treated to an exposed Colby either, the jacket was on and making sure I was covered. Only a turtleneck could have done it better. I simply couldn’t complete my quest. Granted, school and a very crowded mall probably weren’t the best places to try it out, but nevertheless, I failed. I couldn’t earn that promotion to Advanced Gay status just yet.

Now, let’s make one thing clear. When Phoenix Pride rolled around, I wore the thing out with ease. It’s a lot easier to wear a crop top when there’s someone wearing a dog leather mask around every corner. I’m truly just not at all where the eyes are going in the slightest.

Yet, everywhere else is kind of a train wreck. I wore it to a karaoke bar once, and let’s just say I’ve never been happier that one member of our group had an incident where they needed to leave right away. I jumped at the chance to no longer be visible to anyone, whatsoever.

Well, that’s it. I, just can’t do crop tops. I’ve shown I can really only wear it out to Pride, so naturally, I just need to give it up.

Thus, the only reasonable next step was to buy two more crop tops for absolutely no reason at all. Did I buy them three months ago? Yes. Have I worn them yet? No. Will I ever? Well, only six months till Pride! Look, I thought they’d give me that baby crop I was lusting after. I was very wrong. I’m truly not powerful enough for the crop.

So, for now, I’m sitting at Intermediate Gay, waiting for my time to shine. Maybe one day I’ll be able to get my advanced qualification test. But for now, Intermediate will be just fine for me.