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.
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.
Tops had always seen the world in silhouettes. While other girls her age were obsessing over pop stars, Tops was in her grandmother’s attic in Bangkok, deconstructing vintage silk scarves to see how the bias cut hugged a mannequin’s frame. She earned her nickname because, quite frankly, she refused to design anything else. "The face is the soul," she’d say, "so the frame—the shoulders, the neckline, the drape—must be the masterpiece."