Dirty Denim Project 2: The Denim Part II, the Design Inspirations, and the Numbers
The Denim Part II
September 20-26
Appearance: This Cone Denim lives up to its signature Deeptone name. The indigo dyed threads are a saturated navy blue, contrasting nicely with the undyed threads that can be seen peeking through unevenly in the pattern of the twill. The cut edge of the fabric shows the fraying of these white threads, stiff and straight in their pure cotton composition. The reverse side is the expected muted tone of the inside of jeans, with striations of the white threads visible in varied clusters running across the width of the fabric. The weft threads are not quite perpendicular to the selvage. This is intentional (learn more here). Scattered throughout the backside of the denim are little spots of indigo, like paint splatters, like freckles. These are the little spots of imperfection. This is where my denim’s personality shines.
Smell: The scent is deeply inky. It stirs up memories of inkpads, the really good ones that would ooze the ink when stamps were pressed into them. The scent is noticeably stronger on the front side of the fabric; on the back, it’s more subtle – more like a marker. My first reaction to the odor was neither positive nor negative. It was unexpected, but not unreasonable. For days, the roll of denim sat on my table, and I’d come over briefly to touch it, sniff it again. The scent became intoxicating, familiar, comforting. I’d inhale its perfect blend of nostalgia and novelty. Over time, it faded, becoming one with the scents of my environment.
Sounds: This denim is a quiet fabric. If unfurled in the air, it makes the rippling sounds of a canvas whipped against the wind. Cutting through it, the scissors release a satisfying, strong slicing sound. Crunched up in my hands, it makes a deeper crinkling sound. I listen less to the sounds it makes, and more to the things it tells me without any sound at all.
How Does it Feel?: This fabric feels like denim, like something I’ve been feeling and wearing all my life—so familiar, and yet a little different. It is stiff, definitely, and does not stretch when pulled left to right. It is rough and raw on its outside, but on the inside, much softer. It is cooperative when laid out on the ground, easy to mark and cut. For the hours it takes to sew, I feel this fabric in my hands (stained blue), learning all of its best and worst qualities. It is somehow simultaneously strong and weak. I start to understand its rawness—it is dry and brittle. It is difficult without reason; I understand why most people prefer to buy their jeans pre-washed and with spandex content, favoring flexibility, softness, artificiality. I have no vocabulary for how this fabric feels after it becomes jeans and I wear them on my body. It is a sensation unlike anything my legs have felt before. After days and hours of anxiety that something would go wrong before the experiment could even begin, I get the jeans on my body, they fit, and they feel terrible; I have a wave of relief and excitement: this is how it’s supposed to feel! I did it right.
Tasting Notes*: Bitter and dry, a little earthy and floral, full-bodied with a metallic mouthfeel. Could use salt.
*I did not taste the fabric.
Design Inspirations
September 25-28
The Watch Pocket
For the watch pocket, I cut the outer edge right along the selvedge (inspired by Raleigh Denim Workshop). I’m pretty sure the historically accurate term is watch pocket, and that it was used for a pocket watch, but I have seen other terms suggesting other purposes. I have never used this pocket on any jeans I’ve worn, but it wouldn’t be jeans without it. The fabric I chose for my pocketing was a scrap from my stash of Pattern 120-208201 “Hats for Cats” by Paintbrush Studio Fabrics. It is a 100% cotton quilting cotton, but with a tight weave and a crisp hand, which makes is less prone to wrinkling after washing than most quilting cottons.
The Fly
The most historically accurate jeans would, of course, have a button fly. Lee is credited with being the first to use a zipper in their jeans, as early as the 1920s, but they weren’t widely used in jeans until the 1950s (more history here). I had no interest in vintage styling here, opting for the convenience of the zipper instead. To sew this fly, I followed the tutorial on blog.megannielsen.com.
The Arcuate
I’ve learned that the term for the stitching on the back pockets of jeans is called the “arcuate.” It is purely decorative and serves to show the brand. During World War II, even thread was rationed, so the government prohibited these decorative stitches; as such, Levi’s started to paint their arcuate to maintain their branding. I currently own no store-bought jeans with this stitching, because I guess that’s still not my style. But for making my own jeans, I decided I wanted to put something there. I chose mountains, as a shape that is reminiscent of those used by the major denim brands, and because I live among the mountains. I don't actually like the mountains—they make me feel trapped. But as these jeans are a reflection of me and my environment, that means mountains. I plan to use a water design for my next jeans (with the water selvedge fabric) and wanted to do something different here.
The Embroidery
The inspiration for the little iron symbol was mostly from DENHAM, which is a company that uses an embroidery of scissors as branding on one of their back pockets. Personally, I think the iron is the most powerful and important tool in sewing. I placed it on the inner right back pocket, because that seemed like the right place to do it—probably inspired by Levi’s little red tag. Little iron, flatten the mountains.
The Rivets
I initially didn’t have a strong desire to source and apply rivets to my jeans. However, the whole history of jeans starts with the rivet; the rivet was the basis of the patent established in 1873 by Levi Strauss & Co. The number of rivets has changed throughout the years, for various reasons, and I decided to use only 5, on the front pockets, based off of jeans I own. Many heritage brands seem to utilize the hidden rivets on the back patch pockets, but that seemed unnecessarily complicated and less secure to me (the rivets wear through the outer layer of fabric over time). I instead used X bar tacks in place of those rivets, inspired by Lee.
The Hem
The people who are really into denim are particular about the littlest things. I made sure to purchase threads that were a polyester/cotton blend, for the strength of polyester and the look of cotton—it wouldn’t be “authentic” if the threads didn’t show signs of wear as well. But these “denimheads” also have strong feelings about the types and brands of machines used to sew their jeans. For some people, it is very important that jeans be hemmed with a chainstitch machine. This is not typically done anymore, as the chainstitch is much less secure and more prone to unraveling than a lock stitch. I do not own a chainstitch machine, I have never seen one, and never before I started on this project did I ever wish I had access to one. I did the best that I could do with the equipment I have.
The Buttonhole
I wasn’t sure if I should put an interfacing in the waistband of my jeans. Part of the experience of wearing in jeans seems to be that the waistband expands over time, and to me, that would suggest that there should not be a stabilizer. I was also undecided about whether I should sew the buttonhole by machine or by hand. My machine doesn’t have a buttonhole stitch that completely replicates the look of a jeans buttonhole, but I thought I’d try the closest option. My machine had been struggling a bit throughout the construction process, and by the time I attempted the buttonhole, she very clearly said “no” so I decided a hand-worked buttonhole was the way to go. As I was working the stitches around the cut edge, the brittle threads of the fabric were pulling out, and the whole thing threatened to disintegrate in my fingers.
The Patch
I could have stopped here, but I decided that even though I am not a fan of the back patch, I did want to include that branding feature on my jeans. This is sometimes referred to as a Jacron patch, as Jacron is the name of the sustainable vegan leather-alternative frequently used on jeans today. Heritage brands often opt to use genuine leather, as the more “authentic” material. Here is where I cannot agree with denim enthusiasts, because vegan leather is the future, and if an easier-to-care-for and more sustainable alternative exists, that is what should be used. I don’t wear leather at all, so using leather would not be authentic to me. I could not find a local source for the vegan leather-paper, and online ordering would mean buying a quantity way out of proportion to the tiny patch I needed. So I looked to my fabric shelf and pulled out a scrap of 100% linen in the shade of apricot; embroidering a fabric patch would be the option most true to me anyway. As the last design decision to make for these jeans, I felt a little drained on ideas and anxious about this decorative detail. I knew I wanted to incorporate my old-fashioned iron symbol, but wasn’t sure about the stitches themselves. Eventually, I decided to stitch the negative space, as if it were an embossed design on leather, in a coordinating orange 100% cotton Sashiko thread. I embroidered with a chain stitch as an homage to the chainstitch machine frequently used to make jeans.
Additional Source:
Denim Branded: Jeanswear’s Evolving Design Details by Nick Williams and Jenny Corpuz
The Numbers
Water Consumption
It takes a lot of water to grow cotton. According to one source, the water consumption for one pair of jeans is approximately 10,000 liters (or 2,642 gallons). I’m not sure how that’s calculated, but I’m assuming it’s accounting for more than just the growth of the cotton. Another source says 1,800 gallons goes into the cotton growth alone. After harvesting, the cotton has to be cleaned, carded, and spun into threads, and then the warp threads are dyed. I can’t say I know much about this process, or its water consumption. There is also water use in the sanforization process. I plan to do more research on these topics in the coming weeks. My own water use so far has been minimal. My iron has been leaking water lately, leaving large water spots on everything I press. I didn’t want to risk creating permanent damage on this unwashed fabric, so I decided not to put water in my iron and press everything steam-free. I used a white marking pencil for the design on my back pockets and the iron symbol, and then carefully blotted them with a damp towel to erase the drawn lines. From the running of my faucet, I would estimate less than one cup of personal water consumption in the creation of my jeans.
Measurements
Jeans Me Ease
Top of Waistband: 27.5” 27” .5”
Hips: 37.5” 36.25” 1.25”
Thigh: 23” 21” 2”
Knee: 16.25” 13.25” 3”
Calf: 14.5” 14” .5”
Ankle: 12.5” 8.75” 3.75”
Inseam (uncuffed): 32”
Cuff: 2”
Cost
Denim: 3-yard roll for $34.50, minus Labor Day savings of 21% ($27.26), plus shipping ($5.99 for 2 rolls, counting as $3 for one) = $30.26
I measured the denim as approximately 13” more than 3 yards, and after my cutting, I was left with nearly a full yard of uncut fabric, plus a fairly large amount between the two bottom leg pieces. I could deduct that amount from the denim cost, but I prefer to use the full upfront price of a fabric when determining the cost, and the left-over amount as “free” when I am able to use the scrap.
Thread: Two spools at $2.49 each, during a “Buy 3 Get 2 Free” promotion; return amount $1.29 each, plus $.19 tax = $2.77
Needles: Pack of denim needles $7.99. I used 1.5/5 = $2.40
Zipper: $2.99, during a “Buy 3 Get 2 Free” promotion; return amount $1.55, plus $.11 tax = $1.66
Rivets: $4.99 plus $.36 tax . I used 8/~100 = $.43
Pocketing fabric, patch fabric, patch thread, additional threads, and button: from my stash = $0
Total Cost: $37.52
This is probably the most I have ever spent on a pair of jeans. If I factored in the cost of my labor, that would add no less than $500. My anxiety about spending money on clothes, paired with the knowledge that cheap clothes means the people making them are not being paid fair wages, means that I don’t think I can in good conscience ever buy jeans again.
