september 26, 2009

atelier de production et de creation

i just purchased my first pair of raw denim A.P.C. jeans a few days ago. they're brutally stiff and ridiculously tight. stiff because they're raw denim, and tight because they recommend sizing down, due to the slow but eventual stretching of raw denim. they casually advise sizing down to a point were you struggle to button your new jeans. i'm not exaggerating when i tell you that it takes all of my strength to button these jeans, it is a struggle.

i can't bend at the knees without a considerable amount of effort and ascending a staircase is a nightmare, even walking around my apartment takes real purpose. my bum is flattened to a point where i start to feel genuine sympathy for middle aged asian men (just kidding). i don't wear them outside the apartment for fear of chafing, and public ridicule. my back fat for the first time in my life resembles a muffin top, who prefers the alias, "don juan dedonut" which is spanish for "don want the donut."

if don juan could speak he would coyly bark two things, "make me a sandwich!" followed by, "take off your pants!" what don wants, don gets.

the amount of effort you go to just to wear these pants creates an odd sense of false accomplishment. I caught myself laying in bed last night with my new jeans on, beaming with smug satisfaction, for when you wear A.P.C.s every moment is a productive moment. you're not just lying there, you're breaking in a pair of A.P.C.s... but i don't just lie there, if that's what you're thinking.

i like the idea behind raw denim very much, it's novel to me, but i also find it completely ridiculous. for example, A.P.C. includes the following directions for washing your jeans:

let your jeans get
dirty for as long as
possible (6 months),
go swimming in the
ocean wearing your
jeans, rub your
jeans with dry sand,
and repeat several
times. rinse in
fresh water and
let dry in the sun.