Last week, I was lucky to attend a master class in vintage denim led by Eric Schrader at the Levi’s Haus of Strauss in Los Angeles. Eric, who owns the renowned Junkyard Jeans, is the definition of an expert, and someone I have turned to regularly as a resource for this letter. Few people are as knowledgable – or as generous with their knowledge – as Eric is about the history and hallmarks of great, old jeans. I was really happy to finally get to meet him in person.
It was billed as a 101 but, Eric joked, “it’s more like a 300 series.” (For the 101, maybe read this.) I, for one, learned that Levi’s switched from using natural to synthetic indigo dye in 1966; that Big E’s from the 70s had a rare, lemon-yellow top-stitch; and that shrink-to-fits from the 80s shrunk 1% more than jeans made in the 90s. Denim was just made differently from one decade to the next (though not with any sort of official stop and start dates). Eric told us that 1982 was the last big year for selvedge production, but that ‘84-’86 are his favorite years for 501s because the transitional denim made during those years was especially good at weathering and could “really tell the story of the person who wore them.” Turns out, there were men’s 701s (I always thought 700 styles were just for women), and the way to identify them is by the belt loop placement – on men’s 701s, the front loops are sewn closer to the top button, outside the pockets. Who knew? Eric, of course. Though he was clear about having a lot to learn, still: “If I thought I knew everything, I don’t think this would be any fun at all.”
After class, everyone was invited to look through giant laundry bins of vintage Levi’s and find a special pair to keep. (I chose a ‘96 non-selvedge men’s 501 tag size 31 with a dark fade and strong, linear whiskering.) I’ve said it before: If you want to buy vintage jeans online, it’s best to do it from a trusted source that accepts returns. Eric is your guy.
But I’m not someone who only does vintage, and so the two new jeans to know today are…
AYR: The Top Floor
It’s hard to argue with the length one gets from wearing a wide leg with a heel (doesn’t even have to be a high heel; see today’s Footnote1 for more). What’s interesting to me about Ayr’s The Top Floor (besides the name, which evokes penthouse suites and sweeping corner offices) is that it’s a straight leg jean that reads, from certain angles, like a bell. Am I seeing things? I actually went so far as to measure and, laid flat, the leg width on a size 25 is consistently 10 1/4” from thigh to hem. It is, indeed, straight. And wide. And as flattering as a flare.
Designed as a more exaggerated version of The Secret Sauce (which I also love and featured here), The Top Floor succeeds at being voluminous and uncumbersome. The comfort-stretch holds its shape, and a very soft crease mark down the middle “brings your eye up and makes your legs look supah dupah long,” Ayr’s womenswear designer Brigette Deshais told me. The bottom line on The Top Floor: The fit, the feel, the 99% cotton construction (11% of which is recycled), and the fact that it’s made in L.A. make it worth every penny.
Jean of the Week: Alessandra Codinha
Alessandra Codinha is someone whose denim style always gets my attention because it’s so varied and never feels over-worked. Like writing, wearing jeans comes naturally to Alessandra, who was Vogue.com’s culture editor in New York before she moved to Los Angeles with her partner and their (perfect) golden retriever, Hugo. Though everyday is a good one to talk to Alessandra about denim things, the recent launch of her collection of large marble vessels, designed in collaboration with Anastasio Home, makes here and now feel extra-right.
Your jeans are…
The Neve low slung jeans by Citizens of Humanity, in a wash called “Oasis,” and they have the kind of leisurely slouch you usually have to either go vintage for or wear the dickens out of first. But not so much slouch that they are totally unstructured. A girl needs some structure. Plus, if you don’t mind me getting on my soapbox, Citizens is a great company that really practices what it preaches in terms of regenerative agriculture and supporting causes on the right side of history (democracy, civil rights, the future of the planet). It makes shopping with them extra easy and gratifying. Beyond the jeans also, you know, being great.
Best memory in them?
I loved taking these pictures, which I did with two of my great friends, the brilliant photographer Liz Barclay and the genius artist and set designer Domenica Leibowitz, both of whom turned up to support my new line of marble vessels for Anastasio Home. It was one of those really beautiful days when you get to spend time with some of your favorite people all rowing in the same direction.
I wore these jeans a few days later, to dinner at Rory’s in Ojai with friends, and then by the pool at the Capri until the wee hours, which is a different type of very excellent feeling.
Denim philosophy?
I am a true, blue jean believer. I think they’re beautiful and classic and that if they’re clean and well-fitting and styled well you can wear them anywhere, even Buckingham palace, which is probably why I’ve never been invited. (Surely that’s why, right?) I wear them almost every day. I like their strength and their utility: A good pair can be like a blank slate, or a scaffold on which to hang everything else, be it something exciting or duly basic. I don’t always want to notice them beyond that they’re good and they’re there. Like, if I really wanted you to look at my legs, I’d wear a miniskirt. Jeans are jeans.
What about jeans don’t you like?
I don’t like when I have to wash them and fret about doing it right, which I probably don’t.
What type of jeans are you into these days?
First of all, if you see me in a skinny jean, call the police. Something is very wrong.
I wear a straight to wide (and sometimes very wide) leg, not – and I cannot emphasize this enough – not cropped, and usually in a rich indigo or a well-loved light rinse. I make occasional exceptions for white, but white is its own world with its own rules, from eggshell to optic, and I tread lightly there. Black jeans for some reason I cannot get into, though they definitely exist in my closet. (The problem may be in living with a very blonde dog.)
I wear my jeans with everything, but in L.A. that’s usually an oversized button-down shirt or a crew neck sweater; a silk pajama shirt, a sequin something-or-other if the occasion calls for it. I have recently acquired some hardware-happy skinny vintage belts, which I used to think just made a person look wider, but now I embrace as something more akin to jewelry for the body, and for this evidence of personal growth, I am very grateful.
Alessandra Codinha is a writer, editor, and brand consultant. Her Substack – Here We Go – is a mashup of great buys, reads, out-and-abouts and global goings-on. She lives in L.A.'s Laurel Canyon with her partner and their golden retriever, Hugo.
For those who may be new here, Welcome. I do more on Instagram sometimes: @janepageherman. My clothing line, The Only Jane, is best-known for a signature jumpsuit called Jump One, but I also make a denim jacket that’s unisex and reliable (my mom friends like the pockets for snacks and such). I love hearing from you about the jeans you wear most – put it in the comments as there are no wrong answers and I think everyone appreciates a good recommendation. Shopping, sharing, liking, or upgrading to paid is a great way to support my work. Thank you for reading.
Jane
Footnote. I’m wearing this shoe with many of my jeans these days – they’re great with shorter, vintage 501s and longer Top Floors from Ayr. To me, the heel height on Larroudé’s Milan sandal – 1 3/4” – is ideal because it doesn’t require exclusive tailoring. Meaning, a jean length that accommodates this sandal will also accommodate the flats & sneakers I wear 98% of the time (for reference, these Top Floors have a 29.5” inseam; I’m 5’4”.) I like the geo-floral grommets, and the glam, gold hardware. I like the memory foam soles, too. I have no business wearing heels all day anymore, but if I did, I’m fairly certain I could manage it in these.
Whenever I see the back label on Levis, I remember that back in the day we blocked out our waist sizes (who taught us that? WHY? We were perfectly average sizes) and I feel badly for whoever thrifted them as prime specimens until they saw the defaced label.
Do we think skinny jeans will ever come back? Asking for a friend 🤣