Hi sweethearts! Welcome to my adorable mock-turtleneck page, where I sing endless odes to my favourite piece of clothing with the dreamiest cute appeal of all time, the mini-mock turtleneck.

Here you will see how the mini-mock-turtleneck evolved from its humble beginnings to it's glamourous entrance into Hollywood, and then, by sheer fate of one unexpected key figure in the evolution of the mini-mock, our beloved top gets cropped into the sexy hybrid that it is today. So grab a bucket of pork rinds and forget about that quarterly budget meeting you have to attend in five minutes. Hop on this ride for a whirlwind trip through historical sightings of some of the kewlest mock-turtleneck-wearing heroines I've ever gone ga-ga over. (sad to say, aside from myself, not too many men or boys partake in wearing the mini-mock turtleneck...unless, of course, when one does, he will inadvertently have to bear a torrential downpour of abusive yet colourful catcalls from street people of all shapes and sizes).

  

The earliest recorded time in history when the mock-like turtleneck made it's first appearance was during the late fifteenth century. The era was one of transitional times, when Westerners were in the midst of some major contradictions: Christianity discouraged the use of perfumes while, on the other hand, bathing was still a foreign concept. Eventually, the need to contain one's mounting body redolence and keep bypassers from retching on the streets gave birth to a neat little solution. In Sandro Botticelli's painting, Portrait of a Young Man, we see our baby rear its adorable head for the first time.

  

At the turn of the century, when religion started adopting a "kinder, gentler" policy, the bourgeoisie's new found freedom ran amuck and Fragonard ruled the courts with Rococo extravagance. On the other side of the court however, nuns from many convents, being brides of Christ, turned to the fine-collar turtleneck as a budget-conscious alternative to the lacy layered dress that was the rage of their secular counterpart. Here, Sister Marie Keyrouz demonstrates how the fine-collar turtleneck has developed into a habit in every sense of the word.

  

No one gave the fine-collar turtleneck another thought as it sank quietly into the radiant depths of Christian austerity. Cultures sped across generations with the invention of the automobile and the silent screen, enabling people to experience compressed time and a strange yearning to maim and brutally ravage each other in two major wars for no inherent reason. Once again, in the midst of a transitional period, between the dust of one battle receding into distant memory and another clawing at the gates of peace, our first "mock" turtleneck heroine rose from the closely tailored women's suits of the fifties' promise of perfection. Audrey Hepburn in the movie Funny Face, was not only my first exposure to the dreamiest turtleneck in my youth, but she was also the quintessential turtleneck sweetheart who wore tops of such fine fabrics that it turned the fine-turtleneck into the slim-turtleneck . With her real life fascination in the couture house of Givenchy and that of Chanel, it was no wonder that this Hollywood superstar donned our beloved turtleneck with such delicious charm and cuddly delight.

  

Our girl Audrey opened up a decade to the whole beatnik thing, where guys with goatees recited poetry by a man from Paterson, New Jersey and girls said, "dig it, daddy-O" No one seemed to care, everyone was having a good "happening," wearing black turtlenecks, and jazz was in the air. The States were leading in manufacturing the highest quality goods as well as the highest nonsense, taking a firehose to a group of responsible citizens who wanted nothing but to vote. I've always thought Marilyn Monroe looked sweetest and most human in her slim-turtlenecks, but people seem to insist on pictures of her with that celluloid smile, which must have drove her to her demise. Along with her tragic fall, we knew that our too cool, turtleneck salad days would have to come to an end sooner or later.

  

The sixties opened up a new era to stylish Bond Girls and Spy espionage movies. Suddenly, everyone needed a dossier, an Aston Martin, and a slim-turtleneck to get about town. The vengeful, sports-car driving, rifle-shooting, turtleneck-wearing Tilly Masterson in GoldFinger was my all-time Bond girl as far as our adored outfit was concerned. The moment Odd Job's razor sharp bowler hat struck down Tania Mallet's character in the woods, I knew that a crippling blow had been delivered to the turtleneck camelot that would send our way of life deep into the trenches for years to come. It was all over....

  

Two decades of terror followed, where young kids died in jungles, boys and girls who would become today's leading CEO's started running around in loose, shapeless, tie-dye clothes denouncing corporate authority while pledging their trust funds to some Indian con-artists, and believing, like their forefathers 500 years before they, that bathing was not a necessity. Without a decent, tight, clingy blouse in sight, and the tell-tale, week-old, "natural" fragrance of unwashed bodies filling the country's air, folks like us had to go underground to suck on acid stamps in order to see visions of slim-turtlenecks floating across the promise land.

They say it takes twelve hours to come back down, but it took nearly another decade of big shirt collars, leisure suits, wide lapels, and the great pretender to the throne: the loose cowl-neck sweater to make us realise we were going in the wrong direction after all. Of course, having slid into the cycles of mood-ring familiarity, most of us were resistant to change.

  

Then one day, people decided they've had enough of this make-believe poverty. It was a good time to start a backlash anyway. So they turned in the opposite direction, and began to revel in make-believe affluence. Greed mounted, shoulder pads grew, and the thirst for control provided the perfect setting for our necks to be covered once again. After all, with the lethal combination of tv series Dynasty, power-hungry yuppies, and high-intensity aerobics, there was only one possible way the turtleneck could make it's entrance on the comeback trail: The thoroughly anglo-worshipping, english-saddle horseriding 80's. Ahhhh...what a lovely, breathlessly sensous way of greeting our homecoming slim-turtleneck! Can you honestly say this isn't the sexiest outfit anyone can put on?

  

With the acquisition of affluent tastes came an accompanying affliction. Girls trying to out-thin each other decided that even a single fold in a turtleneck was one too many in bulking up their necks. Since most couldn't afford the superfine materials of the 50's slim turtleneck, someone bought a pair of scissors, and with one snip, unfolded the mysteries of centuries past into the mock-turtleneck. Here is a real devoted mock-turtleneck-wearing actress from the eighties. Phoebe Cates played in a string of adorable teen-movies, but her most noted accomplishment was her abundant exposure in public, donning the too-cool, black mock-t, which helped the masses' reception of the "missing fold" in a turtleneck that will soon become the rage for teens. As the decade went on however, many were starting to feel a bit uncomfortable with all the three-layered socks, thick leg warmers, and gaudy-colored outfits. Then, suddenly, someone had the clever idea to crop an inch or two off (with the same pair of scissors) from the bottom of their blouses and mock-turtlenecks for a breather of fresh air. Their source of inspiration....

  

Yes. Here is our hero in the evolution of our cherished turtleneck: At the end of the eighties, a few people started to take a second look at Winnie the Pooh's dress code and they said, "hey, we can do this to the mock-turtleneck too!" thereby putting the "cropped" into the cropped mock turtleneck. I personally have no problems with wearing my mock-turtlenecks like Winnie on a daily basis, but I've found that it is a concept that has yet to be embraced on a public level.

  

From that point on, it was "UP, UP and AWAY!!!" Cropped-mock turtlenecks everywhere! Cropped-mock turtlenecks all over the length and breadth of this country! The models in the fashion magazines were wearing it, and the public followed suit.

  

Rock stars were wearing 'em by the dozen. Aimee Mann shows off a black one on the record cover of "I Should've Known." Incidentally, If you ever get the chance to catch it, she wears a fabulous, fabulous mock turtleneck on the stage-performance video of the too-lovely song "Coming Up Close," when she was with her other band 'Til Tudesday.

  

On the cover of American Photo magazine, Bridget Hall wears a dreamy, cropped mock-t that comes the closest to Winnie The Pooh's outfit I've ever seen.

  

  

You name it, from Vogue magazines, to Brazilian models like Valaria Mazza (center), and meaningless sitcoms- take a look at the very first episode of Unhappily Ever After to see Nikki Cox's (right) delicious outfit- everyone was catching the fever of the mini cropped-mock turtleneck. Note the official cropped mock turtleneck stretch performed by model Claudia Schiffer (left) as the classic way to raise the top and display even more of the bare tummy.

The trend stayed for a good two more years, and still lingers today amidst those who refuse to hide their midrifts, gained from torturous hours at the gym doing abdominal crunches. It was the nineties' way of saying, "you can diet all you want and you can lace on your corsets, but honey, this is the real thang, so read 'em and weep!"

  

Eventually however, the whole golden mini mock-t era (est. 1993-1995) would recede down over the tummy again as fashion magazines, who started the fire and added to it, now condemned it as "cheap, out-of-style, and unbearable." But then, fashion people are the last group of folks you should listen to in the first place. Sweetheart Guenevere Van Seemus at the beginning of her career demonstrates the more respectable hem of the modern, cute-mini mock.

  

For those of us who now know that this adorable turtleneck is a continuum that started hundreds of years ago, we know that some form of the little turtleneck will always be around. And if the going gets rough and people are starting to get to ya, just slip on that too-cool mini-mock T and throw your hands up in the air (remember the official stretch) and say "Yeeeeaaaagh!" What does the future hold for our turtleneck, I do not know, but with highly huggable Elizabeth Valk Long, winner of the Matrix Award for "outstanding career achievement" at Time Magazine's executive vice-president chair looking this dreamily elegant, can you honestly say our mini mock doesn't have a promising future?

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