I thought I was the only one who felt the way I did about women’s denim…. until I met Ewa. Then, it felt like Us against the World… until I read the following passage by Simon Doonan. Bless him, we are not alone:
Jeans were what people wore on the occasions when people did not care what they wore.
Back then in the late 1970s, who could have predicted that a mere thirty years later, the world would be in the grip of a veritable denim plague?
I call it the blue death.
The denim trend, which swung into action in the late 90s with the boot-cut, butt-crack craze, has gone on too long. Far too long.
In the counterculture 1960s, denim jeans were associated with pleasure and leisure: Woodstock, Easy Rider, etc., etc. How paradoxical that these once-trangressive garments are now, half a century later, sucking the inventiveness and fun out of dressing up.
Denim has become a disempowering standby.
The result: a horrible conformity is raging whereby the entire earth’s female population is squeezing its collective ass into denim jeans of one brand or another and teaming them with a floozy tank top or halter. This phoned-in, homogenizing look is a corner-cutting device, a shortcut to cool, which reeks of faux bohemia and will jeopardize your ability to attain any level of glamourous eccentricity.
Don’t be lazy.
If you put all your jeans in a bag and drop them off at Goodwill, you will force yourself to seek out alternatives. You will automatically gain in individuality. You will find yourself wearing a sequined Mexican dirndl or black gabardine gauchos, and you will automatically have more fun.
from Eccentric Glamour by Simon Doonan