Personal Things and Jeans
Plus, a fit test: One style on eight women in eight different sizes.
Hello and happy Saturday. Some of you have asked me to share a little bit more about myself and my design process, so this letter is part personal history, and part professional career stuff, with a look at my signature jean style, the Georgia, and how it fits women sizes 24 - 31. Those of you who’ve been following me for a while – I see you – I hope you’ll keep scrolling. New subscribers, Welcome! I’m so happy you are here.
Jane on Jeans launched in May 2023 as an expression of my interest (obsession?) with jeans and an extension of my denim-focused clothing line, The Only Jane. If you know me, you know that my love for jeans started long before I ever worked in fashion. I grew up in a retail family in Los Angeles, where denim was the foundation for everything, from our looks to our livelihood. It’s what we talked about at the dinner table, affectionately, like a friend. My dad, Ron Herman, wore jeans every day and taught me early on about the anatomy of a five-pocket style and how to properly identify good whiskering (my ode to my dad and our family business can be read here). In high-school, I worked summers behind the jean bar at my parents’ legendary store in the Fred Segal center on Melrose Avenue (an honor!), where it was my job to match each customer with the perfect fit. The idea was that only a trained professional could know what jeans you really needed. Back then, circa 2001, Diesel dominated, Earl was everything, and a little-known label called Seven was about to blow our minds with a bootcut that made butts look perkier than Pomeranian puppies. I remember wearing vintage 517s with Jane Mayle tops to work. My haircut was exactly the same as it is today.
Later, when I became a fashion writer for Vogue, I continued to keep close track of the trends and industry shifts. I reported on brands like Current/Elliott, which launched in 2008 with a then-revolutionary fit called the Boyfriend, and I wrote about the rise of skinnies, a look that everyone was talking about but few knew how to wear (myself included). By the time I got to T Magazine, where I ran the website (this was in 2012), jeans were a Fashion Week regular, not just on the runways but also on a most exciting personal-style space: The street. Here, workwear staples became internet sensations that influenced designers and ushered in an era of influencers (many of whom are now Substackers, btw.)
My years selling jeans and covering fashion for magazines taught me two things: First, that there is always something new to talk about when you’re talking about denim – a fit, a finish, a more sustainable production practice. And second, that you can learn a lot about people by asking them about the jeans they’ve loved. In 2013, I started JeanStories.com by combining these two ideas into a fashion site that, at its core, was about connecting what we wear every day to the uniquely individual ways we live our lives. For years, my co-founder Florence Kane and I traveled the world interviewing inspiring people about their favorite pairs. The stories were about jeans, yes, but they were also highly personal, full of memories and insights into what made each person tick. Norma Kamali, Anna Sui, Jane Pratt, and Balmain’s Olivier Rousteing were some of the interviews I enjoyed the most. For me, Jean Stories was the best job ever, and though Florence and I stopped publishing new stories in 2016, I’ve kept JeanStories.com alive out there, if you want to read the archives.
I’ve never really talked about why Jean Stories ended. It was a decision Florence and I made together, and it was hard. I was going through a divorce – my decade-long partner and the biggest choice I’d ever made (to marry him), wrong. Self-doubt isn’t a great trait for an entrepreneur to have, and at the time I couldn’t find the confidence to take Jean Stories to the next logical level, which was product design. More than anything, I needed security – financial, emotional – and so I went back to work with my pals at Vogue, a place that felt as close to home as any I’d known (in New York, anyways, and I wasn’t about to leave New York). But the dream of designing jeans stayed with me. It was with me when, two year later, I fell in love and got pregnant with my daughter. It was there when I became a mother for the first time, and then a wife, again. The question wasn’t if I’ll make jeans, it was only a matter of when.
My first real jean – the Georgia, named for my daughter – was introduced four years after I launched The Only Jane (with this jumpsuit), in April of this year. It’s a relaxed mid-rise with a wide, bowed leg that tapers at the toe. In July I published this post on how the white version of the Georgia fits women of different sizes. Here are some photos of the same women in the Georgia in vintage blue.
Some of my customers like sizing down. (If you are someone who prefers a more snug fit, I recommend it.) The feeling of a baggy jean hanging on the body requires a bit of an attitude shift for most of us; a chillness that daily adult life can’t always accept. With the Georgia, I was going after something I personally like to get out of my jeans – a drape that shapes the leg and a waist that minimizes the mom pooch. The 10” rise, which lands below the belly button, helps with the latter.
Have I mentioned how good this denim feels? Its softness is usually the first thing women comment on when they try the Georgia, which is made of 100% cotton. “I can’t believe it,” they say, because non-stretch jeans are often so stiff and uncompromising. When I was designing Georgia, I created a list of adjectives to describe the kind of person I need to be in order to successfully meet my life in this moment: Hard-working. Honest. Flexible. As a mom of two small children (ages 3 and 6 now), it is absolutely essential that I be all of the above (maybe flexible, most especially). Shouldn’t my jeans be these things, too?
Honest jeans, you ask? Priced appropriately, manufactured responsibly, and true to both the aesthetic and ethos of my whole jean-loving self (as in, they are totally my style), yes. The Georgia is an honest jean. It is made in Los Angeles, just as I am. And like this newsletter, it comes from the heart.
Whether you knew me back then or have just discovered me recently, I hope you enjoy what I’m doing here now. (Most of the time I’m writing about other people’s jeans. I am still an editor in my bones and I aim to make this a place to discover the best.) Thank you for reading. Denim Forever.
Jane
I love hearing your story — it’s an inspiration to all of us who are coming to terms with the fact that dreams take time — and have adored following your design progression since the jumpsuit became a reality!
Having just gone through a divorce I really resonated with the need for financial and emotional security. Dreams can be paused for better timings! x