The French Tuck: Tiresome trend?

Is there anything more forlorn in the fashion firmament than a stale trend? I had to wait about ten minutes for my intense dislike of the cold shoulder top to be rendered moot. Fashion has forever been hitched to temporal twitches; except for ethereal design (McQueen comes to mind), "last season's" is never a positive adjective.

But, like fruit flies around bananas, one trend will not be shooed away: the French tuck, a way of wearing a sweater or shirt. The term is credited to stylist Tan France, who said he saw the effect over twenty years ago in a runway show and coined the term "because it felt cute". Let's look at tuck types.

Bold Tuck

A good swath of front is slipped inside the waistband; the rest hangs loose and low. In a bulky sweater, thick folds form at the side; when seated, the wearer sports knitted love handles.

Navel or Mini Tuck

This is a subtler tuck; the front caught inside the waistband for a few inches, the rest sitting outside. It's low-key and will, like the popped collar, be eternally adopted by some, but to keep the mini-tuck precisely positioned requires vigilance, and a long mirror in the Ladies. 

Half Tuck

This is the pointless, posey tuck. Fashion sites still call the half tuck "chic", "wow!", "street style", and say it "elevates your game". 

This version has seeped into middle school, years built for experimentation. However, as a grown woman, I felt silly when I tried it at home. It signals mindless compliance. Remember the few months when some grownups tried to wear a jacket half on and off?  

On the springtime streets, men without Tan France's eye seem to have forgotten the knack. Stylist Tom Murray writes about the man-tuck: "The worst part of the French tuck, though, is the lie that it stands for. It embodies a faux nonchalance that says: 'Oh, is my shirt not tucked in properly? I didn't even notice.' But you did notice. You noticed when you tucked it in that way, and there's something mildly pathetic about putting more effort into making it look like you've made no effort."

On women, the freshness has faded. I retain my initial impression: they look like they were interrupted while dressing. Said to define the waist, I don't think the effect excels. If a trim midsection is an asset, isn't a shirt worn with a chic belt, as Helen Mirren does here, enough?

I've had a few emails saying, "Hey! That contest (the "Springing into Joy" 15th Anniversary one) had an impossible skill-testing question!" Challenging, sure, but not impossible; the acronym was used as recently as January, 2023 in the "From Misstep to Muse"post, and a half-dozen posts before that.

In the Passage, WWJD stands for What Would Jane Do? Jane Birkin personifies unaffected ease, so hasn't been French tucking. Currently facing health issues, she is not often in the public eye, but remains an inspiration.

Tucks are trivial—and yet, we are told to stay current, and it's all in the details.

When we look at old photos of ourselves, in our teased hair or teetering platforms, we might ask, Who got me into this? Did the customs of the time please me? What might I do now, when stylists or writers advise me to style a piece of clothing in a particular way? 

Do what you like—I'm leaving the fiddly folds to dinner napkins.