A Bra. I wore one here, but if your sartorial expression is not hampered by social conventions and general nipple-aversion, by all means, BURN THAT BRA GIRL. YA BURN IT. If you happen to live in a cult or nudist colony of some sort, all the better.
Step 2: A top bespeckled in a conglomeration of intentionally-placed holes for scenic views made easily accessible.
Step 3: High-waist short-shorts or any garment of a similar nature which requires a hyphen in between the words that construct its title. Options include booty-shorts, cut-offs, mini-skirts, bum-stunners, underwear-worn-as-outerwear, and chastity-belts (That last one doesn't actually get a hyphen, nor does it promote educationally-enriching sightseeing of any kind, so avoid it if at all possible.)
The key is suggestion. Here I am suggesting that I am a bohemian flower child, which I am in fact not. I could (or could not) also be suggesting that I am naked, which I partially am, and partially am not. You see? This game requires zero commitment and full-on ambiguity.
SO. Your motto for summer style? Repeat after me...Nipples, Navels and Nether Areas. The End.