I have had my standards for a year and a half and have washed them once intentionally. The first time my friend washed them when I was staying over their place. Talk about hospitality. I was so vexed! I had only been rocking them for 6 months and I had been planning the way I was going to wash them since I had first copped them from the SoHo store. My OG Levi's didn't even get the same wear as these did so I couldn't wait to do that first wash, my way, the right way. Washing the enzymes out and brushing the denim so that each thread coated with indigo would be massaged. It's disgusting how I think out my denim.
So this guy, my friend, tells me he washed my jeans and throws them to me crumbled like it was a pair of sweatpants. Immediately, my heart sinks. A tear falls. It's indigo blue. As I unravel these mutant pair of jeans, torched from being in the dryer, all I can do is remain calm. I couldn't bear to look at this Rosemary's baby of denim. This was not my Standards. This was afterbirth that crawled out of the womb of a dryer. They say once you acknowledge the mistake or imperfection- the next step is to fix it. So, I did the only thing a parent could do when they are upset with the outcome of their Jeans. I cried. I wept. I cursed God and then I accepted them for what they are. The whiskers were still there. The almost blown out knees were still there. I told myself that I could still make these the pair of Denim I want them to be.
I pulled those tight, creased, scorched things around my legs and repeated the process of sweating in them so that the bacteria began to eat at each thread. I wore them every day like underwear. I drank in them and spilled beer intentionally on them. Walked in the rain with no umbrella and entertained the idea of swimming in them. Never got a chance to swim in them but after a year- they started looking familiar. They looked more familiar than ever. They even had that greasy shine to them that I love.
In the pictures attached you can see all these details. You can even see the vertical crease lines from the first wash. I use to hate them but now I love that detail. When I repaired them I went for a traditional box stitch. You can see these on the knees and upper pocket. My favorite part of having these now is when people ask me where I got my denim or what kind of denim I'm wearing. The first guess is Diesel. I laugh. When I tell them they are A.P.C. they shake their head as if I'm lying. Then with a very humble reply I tell them "they do not sell this type of denim there. They come raw, as in blackish-blue. I have worn these every day for over a year. That is the reason why they look like this".
That's when you catch that look of disgust. That look that says you is a nasty motherfu**er. That's when I smile...
A.P.C.
in superdenim
Posted
I have had my standards for a year and a half and have washed them once intentionally. The first time my friend washed them when I was staying over their place. Talk about hospitality. I was so vexed! I had only been rocking them for 6 months and I had been planning the way I was going to wash them since I had first copped them from the SoHo store. My OG Levi's didn't even get the same wear as these did so I couldn't wait to do that first wash, my way, the right way. Washing the enzymes out and brushing the denim so that each thread coated with indigo would be massaged. It's disgusting how I think out my denim.
So this guy, my friend, tells me he washed my jeans and throws them to me crumbled like it was a pair of sweatpants. Immediately, my heart sinks. A tear falls. It's indigo blue. As I unravel these mutant pair of jeans, torched from being in the dryer, all I can do is remain calm. I couldn't bear to look at this Rosemary's baby of denim. This was not my Standards. This was afterbirth that crawled out of the womb of a dryer. They say once you acknowledge the mistake or imperfection- the next step is to fix it. So, I did the only thing a parent could do when they are upset with the outcome of their Jeans. I cried. I wept. I cursed God and then I accepted them for what they are. The whiskers were still there. The almost blown out knees were still there. I told myself that I could still make these the pair of Denim I want them to be.
I pulled those tight, creased, scorched things around my legs and repeated the process of sweating in them so that the bacteria began to eat at each thread. I wore them every day like underwear. I drank in them and spilled beer intentionally on them. Walked in the rain with no umbrella and entertained the idea of swimming in them. Never got a chance to swim in them but after a year- they started looking familiar. They looked more familiar than ever. They even had that greasy shine to them that I love.
In the pictures attached you can see all these details. You can even see the vertical crease lines from the first wash. I use to hate them but now I love that detail. When I repaired them I went for a traditional box stitch. You can see these on the knees and upper pocket. My favorite part of having these now is when people ask me where I got my denim or what kind of denim I'm wearing. The first guess is Diesel. I laugh. When I tell them they are A.P.C. they shake their head as if I'm lying. Then with a very humble reply I tell them "they do not sell this type of denim there. They come raw, as in blackish-blue. I have worn these every day for over a year. That is the reason why they look like this".
That's when you catch that look of disgust. That look that says you is a nasty motherfu**er. That's when I smile...
http://i403.photobucket.com/albums/pp113/ren_ruxpin/APC_1.jpg
http://i403.photobucket.com/albums/pp113/ren_ruxpin/APC_2.jpg
http://i403.photobucket.com/albums/pp113/ren_ruxpin/APC_3.jpg
http://i403.photobucket.com/albums/pp113/ren_ruxpin/APC_4.jpg
http://i403.photobucket.com/albums/pp113/ren_ruxpin/APC_5.jpg
http://i403.photobucket.com/albums/pp113/ren_ruxpin/APC_6.jpg