Wearing Jeans Like a "Normal Person"
Letting raw denim into your life without becoming radicalized
For the last few weeks, largely out of superstition, I’d been wearing the same pair of jeans every day. I was in a play and the first show went well and I’d worn these particular jeans to the theater, so I thought, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
Wearing the same pair of jeans for days, weeks, or even months in a row is not uncommon - among civilians and the fashion-obsessed. Many of us who became enraptured with clothing in the last ten or so years probably lived a period of time in one pair of jeans that we, in most cases, refused to wash. (In our defense, it was a different time.)
Though a normal person refusing to change their pants might be viewed as peculiar, in one particular part of the fashion landscape, this was all too normal - this was raw denim, after all.
The extremely eccentric world of raw denim that I discovered back then (around 2014) was kind of the ideal point of entry into the larger world of fashion. Though one part of it was about wearing your stinky jeans for as long as possible, another part was learning all about construction, design, and even the history of the garment. If you got in deep enough, you learned not only about the precious selvedge edge and the demise of American denim production, but you learned about chainstitching, lockstitching, and flat-felled seams.
It was an earlier era of social media too. The influencers of this time and this niche were often older men, whose exploration of fashion was limited to heavy, custom-made workboots and Japanese flannels, and who unironically puffed cigars and swirled whiskey in artisanal glasses. These proto-influencers have largely gone the way of the dodo - unless they had more to offer the fashion world.

I’m not too sorry to see the influencing titans of the era disappear. They rode into the sunset of my algorithm along with their big chunky rings, stacked leather bracelets, and fancy Japanese socks. I did get pretty denim-pilled, but I think that was more to do with the smaller accounts: the business-owners and the under-the-radar taste-makers. Though many of us were fashion victims at the time (our jeans were much too slim, for one - and we all believed it was sacrilegious to wash our pants in a washing machine - and more than twice a year) it was fertile ground for new ideas and new styles.
I’ve come to know some of these taste-makers, for better — and sometimes, for worse. At the very best, they’ve become colleagues and confidants, and on the other end of the spectrum, I’ve found some to be deeply insecure and unpleasant people, who will block you when you begin to reach a level of popularity that threatens them. It is largely a community of men, thus it is governed by the foibles of men - their petty differences, their internalized misogyny and patriarchy.
Fashion has become softer (in every way) since those days. Literally I am wearing softer materials, but also many of us in that sphere have managed to de-program ourselves and find inspiration outside of Steve McQueen photos online (another insecure and unpleasant man). It took some time, but I learned I didn’t have to dress like a 1930s dock worker to be a real man. And I didn’t necessarily need to break in all of my garments from raw.
That was a big part of this whole scene. The idea that garments had to be broken in from raw. Raw meant untampered-with garments and shoes (but mainly jeans), made the old-fashioned way, before manufacturers pre-damaged new clothes to make them appear old. It was initially a response to all the crappy fast fashion denim in the marketplace, but seemed to also be a judgment on wearing vintage. If someone else broke it in on their body, it won’t be right for me!!!
I bought into this hook, line, and sinker. Probably from 2014-2019 I was incredibly pre-occupied with the idea of breaking in my own jeans and jackets. Like many others, I got pretty lost in the sauce, prioritizing instagram-worthy “fades” over building a versatile and sensible wardrobe. And if that sounds silly to you, it very much was. It was a whole weird culture. There were subreddits and forums all devoted to showing off how faded our once-crispy jeans had become.
The agreed-upon (but since-debunked) rules of the time were as follows:
Size down!! They need to be tight! They’ll stretch out! It might suck for a while, but the “fades!”
Don’t wash them in the washing machine! It’ll mess up the denim!
Only wash every six months to get high-contrast “fades” that look super cool!
If they seem gross, put them in the freezer or wash them in the ocean.
Post weird photos of your crotch on IG to show off the aforementioned “fades.”
But after spending hundreds of dollars on denim I could scarcely afford, I realized that the best fades I’d ever had on a pair of jeans, were a pair of modern Levi’s 501 shrink-to-fits I’d bought in a now-defunct army surplus store for $40. They’d been the comfiest, not the coolest, and that meant that they’d fit into my life well enough to get the sick fades that everyone was after. (For some reason, I gave these to an ex, so I no longer have them.)
But back to my jeans - I’ve come a long way since those days and have acquired a lot more denim. But I’ve focused more on the things that feel functional and comfortable and versatile and less on whatever is cool in the dorky subreddits.
Working in a denim store, I learned the old rules were bullshit. Here are the new rules.
Jeans can be tight in some places, but no need to size down. Fit is the most important thing.
You can wash jeans in the washing machine (inside out - on cold). Just take them out as soon as they’re done and hang them to dry.
If you really want fades, you can wait anywhere between a few weeks to 3 months to let those initial wear patterns set in, but washing is important, it gets the grit out and keeps the fabric healthy.
Don’t put them in the freezer or wash them in the ocean.
Post full-body fit pics (when you want) and make sure your jeans are in harmony with your life and outfits.
I was beginning to re-learn how to wear jeans like a normal person. Like, wearing them with different shoes and outfits and not obsessing about the fades and washes and all that noise. Since becoming un-denim-pilled, I still always have a “working pair” that is slowly getting better with time and receiving the bulk of my attention, but I’m not fixating and not being weird about it.
Wearing a pair like this frees you up from many of the denimhead’s anxieties. You don’t have to sell your soul to a single pair of pants. Because honestly, a stiff, dark blue pair of jeans is not the perfect garment for all occasions. (Like maybe not on a first date.)
When I was younger, I thought the pair of jeans I chose would have to be perfect. Look perfect with every shoe, look great from every angle, but with time I’ve come to learn that no such thing exists. As much as we may hope and dream, there is no perfect pair of jeans.
I’ve learned this the more I’ve fallen in love with clothing - there’s no silver bullet to the jeans dilemma - and there’s no clothing brand that will ever fully encapsulate the many facets of you, the human being. As much as we try to do this - find the sneaker, the watch, the jeans - this moving target will elude us, as our personages wax, wane, and wither.
The best case scenario is that your jeans will grow alongside you - as they age, shrink, and stretch - they’ll become the second skin you’ve always wanted. But it’s probably good to have some other pieces in the rotation: chinos, shorts, sweats, and soft vintage jeans, that you can cycle through and be a normal person wearing jeans in a non-psycho way.
Freewheelers’ 601xx 1947 Regular Straight Jean - One Wash
These are the jeans I’ve been wearing the most lately. This brand is one I’d only ever seen on Instagram until it was sent to me by a friend. I believe the actual brand name is “The Vanishing West,” which is part of Freewheelers… also there is branding on it for “Boone & Cremens.” Whatever the case, it’s classic chaotic Japanese Google-Translate-y jargon in all its beauty. I kept every label and hang tag, the paper was immaculate, the copy was dense, and of course… the jeans themselves.
A rich and subtly textural denim, these jeans have a profound depth that’s easy to lose yourself in if you’re sitting around waiting for something. The fit is versatile and functional, retro-inspired without being too Rockabilly or something. They only come in a short inseam, so extremely tall people might be S.O.L. They’re remarkably well-constructed, although it takes a while to get used to the extremely pointy rivets used on the front pockets and the oddly protuberant rivet backings on the back pockets. I just like these a lot. A very high level of finishing and a fun project for the denim-obsessed.
I opted for a one-wash version, although it appears Son of a Stag also carries a raw version if you want to do the first shrink yourself. If you don’t know what that means, stick to the one-washed version. It’ll be softer and less complicated. A great iteration of the late 1940s 501s (the models that really made the brand famous), these could very well be the last pair of jeans you ever buy - although we both know you’ll be buying more after this.
$345

The whole time I worked at Self Edge, this was always our cheapest jeans offering. They’ve gotten more expensive since I left, but I still love ‘em. Another reproduction of the Levi’s 1947 501 cut, this pair is a little more bare bones than the Freewheelers. The denim isn’t as fancy, it’s a little more utilitarian, and (I imagine) authentic to the original inspiration. Sugar Cane is a great value prop in the world of Japanese denim. Their vertically integrated company lets them bring the prices lower than most - and while not as experimental as some of their competitors - they make a great product for people who just want a good pair of jeans.
Their 1947 fit is about as no-nonsense as you can get in Japanese denim. Wider up and down than the previous offering, they’re just solid as all hell. These have never been quite as flattering on me as the Freewheelers - I blame a slightly lower rise and lower back pockets, but I’ve seen these look really, really good on people with larger waist sizes, the proportions just seem to work better.
$245
Few jeans have captured my imagination in the last few months quite like these from Carson Wach. These are the widest (and highest rise) on the list. There is a devil-may-care quality about these that is hard not to love.
They’re very LA in a way I love and hate simultaneously. Much in the way I love my city and hate many of its residents, I love the garment and resent some of its wearers. But unfortunately this is part of the magic. If the finicky raw denim/fashion people had picked these up, they would be wearing them all proper and at their natural waist, but the cool kids wear these slouchy and low on the hips. They’re getting *fades* without obsessing about it just because they like these jeans and choose to live in them. The skater kids and models are wearing these incredibly cavalierly and I hate to admit it, but it’s cool.
They’re part 50s greaser jean, at least in the front rise, and partly baggy, early hip hop. The exposed rivets on the back pockets is a not-so-subtle (but welcome) nod to Wrangler (as are the inverted V arcuates) that works well in a jean that fits entirely unlike anything in the Wrangler catalog. I love the black and indigo denims for their fading potential, but the washed versions as well as the white are cool too. Not selvedge, but made in LA from American denim.
$225
This is the one I always come back to. Nearly two years ago I got a new pair and thought, what if I try to break these in like a fancy pair of Japanese denim? I think the experiment worked out pretty well. Though not as deep or interesting of a fabric, the broken twill of the cowboy cut is special in its own way.
The jean is pretty anomalous in the modern Wrangler catalog - mainly meaning, it’s good… Wrangler, despite its rich heritage, has gone the way of all the other old brands that are now owned by soulless parent corporations — churning out more and more bullshit, much of it faux-distressed and packed with stretch materials. Though not fancy, their rigid iteration of this jean is actually a raw denim. But a raw denim that retails for like a tenth the price of many Japanese options on the market.
It’s a great microcosm of the raw denim experience - starts rigid and fits kind of blocky and unflattering - but then slowly molds to you with wear and washing until it becomes a fitted, sexy garment that any cowboy would be proud to wear. The only downside is that it’s a bootcut. And while not a very exaggerated one, feels best with actual boots. Get your normal waist size and be patient, it can be tight at first but it’ll let out slowly.
Found this validating and helpful, thanks. I’ve been trying to unlearn the old rules myself, which—not to be melodramatic—has been oddly akin to exiting a cult. Like, why am I anxious about washing jeans?! Anyways, thanks for spotlighting Freewheelers—inspired me to pick up a pair (although I opted for the the ‘44). Sweet baby Jesus…