Holes In Your Pocket

America's sartorial symbol of irreverence has become serious fashion—and seriously pricey

By Susan Caba

Muriel Eulich walks into Breadsmith, on Manchester, looking artsy, which is appropriate because she’s a watercolorist. Anyway, she has spiky black hair and she’s wearing a black leather jacket, boots and jeans with embroidery down the sides of the legs. I ask where she got them.

“I had an art opening in Aspen last year, and I went and I was volunteering in the VIP area, and that’s what everyone was wearing,” she says. “They were over the top, and I thought, ‘I have to get those!’ Then I found out they were $300—but these are from T.J. Maxx, and they were $19.99!”

Another woman, Marian Tanner, chimes in to say her husband got her a pair of embroidered jeans at Nordstrom for Christmas. “He did a good job,” she says. “I love ’em.”

Jeans are the go-anywhere basic of the modern wardrobe: “Put your heels on, and you can wear them anywhere,” says Melodie Tauben, owner of the boutique Vie. “You can put them with a T-shirt or with a velvet blazer. It’s huge. I just see the trend getting bigger and bigger.”

These are not your mother’s blue jeans. You have to consider the nuances to appreciate them—the sleek straight cuts that are on their way in, the embellishments that haven’t left, the special finishes, the pocket placement, the whiskers, the rub, the thread color, the logo, the zipper pull and the studs, not to mention any sequins, embroidery, fraying, hem or patches. One pair at Neiman Marcus, for $262, has a ghostly wear pattern of wrinkles and whiskers so expertly achieved that, like the image on the Shroud of Turin, I wonder how it was created.

Anyone who ever ran over, bleached, washed and rewashed a pair of Levis to get them just right will understand the effort, if not the cost, of achieving these special effects. (On second thought, maybe they are your mother’s blue jeans, if your mother ever sat in a bathtub wearing new Levi’s and hoping that the hot water would mold them to her hips.)

Two things make them different: the price and the fit.

Take, for example, the $1,000 jeans that started the season at Neiman Marcus, which has a large jeans boutique. OK, they were $995 (and they’ve already gone on sale) black jeans by 7 for All Mankind, with a triple row of studs down each leg and a double row around the waist. I also find plenty of jeans between $300 and $600, as well as racks and racks of them priced between $150 and $170. These are “premium” jeans, defined by Cotton Inc. as those costing more than $70.

The average woman, according to Cotton Inc.’s Lifestyle Monitor (an annual survey of consumer habits), owns three pairs of jeans. The fashion innovator (5 percent of the market) owns as many as 10.

Red Haute at Plaza Frontenac, a high-end boutique favored by the wives of football players, carries Án for Me limited-edition jeans. Hand-painted, with ropes of pink pearls slung from one hip and studded with pearls and Swarovski crystals, they cost $675. I also like the less expensive—but still flashy—black jeans by Sassy Thai ($225), with an inset of sequined lace from ankle to thigh.

On the other end of the spectrum, the Goodwill Store has authentically worn andfrayed jeans for less than $15.

“You can have a look without spending the money,” says Eulich, clad in her fabulous $20 jeans. “Anyone can spend a million, but I love the thrill of the hunt—I want to spend $100 and look like a million.”

Here’s my question: Why pay $150 or more for jeans when you can buy them for $50 or less?

“Mostly it’s the fit,” says Tauben. In the Cotton Inc. survey, 85 percent of respondents said that they’d pay almost a third more for jeans that fit right.

“We all want to look good on the backside—that and the name on the rear,” says my clerk at Nordstrom.

To that end, here’s the most important rule: Do not, under any circumstances, wear high-waisted jeans, especially if the legs are tapered and you are pear-shaped. Jeans should sit on your hips, not at your waist.

Don’t get me started on the effects of various pocket styles and placements on the view of your rear end. It’s complicated and apparently akin to plastic surgery.

As we’ve already noted, the fit of your jeans is important. “It’s always best to start with them on the tight side,” says Tauben. She says that stovepipe legs, almost like leggings, are the new trend—but better for those with stovepipe hips. “People will still wear bootcuts,” she assures me.“'What’s happening is that the silhouette is changing—tops are getting much longer, in both T-shirts and sweaters, and they look much better with skinny legs. It’s not going to be a silhouette for everyone.”

Fit is so variable, several stores offer charts of the options: ultralow-rise, low-rise, medium-rise; skinny-leg, straight-leg, flare, bootleg; curvy fit, slimfit, ultraslim and regular; long or short. Just so you know, the raggedy hem detail is important. Known as the “tricky hem,” it is attached so that it may be cut off, the leg shortened and the hem reattached. Some stores, such as Nordstrom, will do this on site for a fee.

Ironically, the processes needed to create the illusion of a rugged, worn-forever jean make the garment fairly fragile. Some require dry-cleaning. If they’re going into the dryer, only low heat should be used. But then, all fashion is artifice and illusion—a fact acknowledged on the tags for 7 for All Mankind jeans (which I keep confusing with the Citizens for Humanity brand):

 “This garment has been carefully handcrafted to simulate years of use and abuse ... just like your old favorite pair of jeans ... each hole and rip reminds you of a different story,” says the tag. “Our expert finishers have handcrafted each piece to look individual and unique; the holes, the rips, the stains are intentional (enjoy the holes, the more the better!).”