The Only Jeans I've Ever Loved

Big legs, skinny legs, short legs, long legs.

Anybody who knows me will tell you that I am an intense creature of habit and have exacting tendencies bordering clinical OCD. The slightest deviation from preferences or routines can ruin a day or even a week. This is, of course, a “me” problem based in how I react to things. But, when you zoom out of that personality quirk, it also means I am very opinionated on things and will dissect the smallest detail when I can — doubly so when it applies to things I’m buying or collecting, wearing, arranging, or creating.

So when something passes the bar, I go full-force. Why buy one “perfect T-shirt”—a universal myth popularized by magazines— when I could buy…ten? This is a spendy habit I developed after being victimized when things sell out or cease production. Compound the aforementioned behaviors with the already mortifying experience of finding new jeans and you’ll understand why I fall very hard for denim that works.

This brings me to Alex Mill — a store that is most certainly in your favorite fashion person’s repertoire. (Fashion person here meaning somebody with true credentials and not mere influence.) The label has actually been around for much longer than people realize and once had an outpost on Elizabeth St. where we used to live. (I believe the old shop is now a Marine Layer.) Since then they’ve gained mass acclaim for their women’s jumpsuits, pleated chinos, and affordable-but-timeless merchandise. 

So when my long-worn, extremely-altered and much deteriorated Acne jeans bit the bullet, I went to their Soho outpost (after the osmosis of seeing my colleagues wear them day in and day out). Men on all sides of my family have abnormally athletic legs and natural rugby physiques (when conditioned, that is). This genetic legacy and humblebrag makes finding any pants that fit a real problem. So much so, in fact, that I have never really loved a pair of jeans until I found the Alex Mill “Painter Pant.”

The work pant silhouette of these is one that’s been around for centuries and popularized by a hundred brands — most notably Carhartt (a brand that has the real chops with something like this). Despite their wide availability, none of them seemed to fit me and I’d walk away from dressing rooms dejected.

With the work pants out there designed for more streamlined physiques, I figured the Alex Mill ones would be just the same. Especially since my coworkers that wear them are substantially taller and thinner than I am. To my surprise and delight the Alex Mill pants have Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants quality that somehow looked equally flattering on me. The legs are roomy but still hug in the right places and the waist cuts a flattering silhouette — they’re neither tight nor baggy. Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants with a dash of Goldilocks, you might say. I bought them in black. Then in natural (“ecru” if you’re fancy). When they finally got more in vintage wash denim, I went after those, too. After living in these jeans for the better part of a year, I did have the waist slightly taken in so I can wear them longer between wears and because of Ozempic.

The Painter Pant in Recycled Denim

In my daily wearing, I actually have reverted to rolling the cuffs here — the wider leg opening makes that far more flattering than on a skinnier fit. My clothing is typically pretty minimal or uniform and with the exception of a few pieces of outerwear, most of it isn’t asking for a compliment, these jeans included. However, every time I wear them the compliments roll in. (I love attention so this is a nice bonus.)

Since then, Alex Mill has introduced their own in-house line of denim: AM Original Jeans. And while the quality here is outstanding, I’m die hard for the denim painter pants. I can’t say that they’ll work for everybody because denim is maybe the least universally fitting garment there is. But, if they work for a tall and slender person and a thicker one, they may be what you’ve been looking for.