Levi's 501: A Man's Jean
I’m over the phenomenon raw and selvedge denim. I still love my worn-in pairs of Baldwins and how their fades and distressing are uniquely my own, rather than pre-done at the factory. That said, for years, raw selvedge jeans were treated as the only viable denim option among men’s clothing cognoscenti. Though men need one pair in their closet that they can dress up, sometimes a guy wants something more rugged, more all-American.
Herein lies the beauty of Levi’s 501 denim, the jean of the everyman, from the artist to the rancher to the stockbroker. Levi Strauss - the 19th century entrepreneur, not the philosopher who favored dark, somber tailoring - founded his empire in 1853, and introduced the 501 circa 1890 as a practical pant for working men who needed durable clothing for manual labor. Like most clothing in our modern wardrobe, jeans started at the bottom and moved their way to the top, as sharp-eyed observes in the 1950s incorporated them into the wardrobe of the Hollywood anti-hero. Soon thereafter, young people across America - and the world - began sporting 501s en masse, and by the 1970s they were ubiquitous among young, casual men.
My first pair of 501s were bought from the clearance section of Urban Outfitters when I was 17. I admired their classic proportions and rigid structure, but found the fit too baggy for me at the time since I switched back and forth between Levi’s super-skinny 510 fit (a sartorial mistake I will never make again) and slim 511 model. While the latter is one of the better jeans for modern men, they lack the provenance of the 501. And besides, skinny fits are going the way of the dodo. If you’ve taken a look at any runway in the past year, fuller legs are en vogue once again - for denim, too. Let’s hope they have staying power, because they look more natural than legging-tight jeans.
My second foray into 501s has proven much more successful. I bought two pairs from Sid Mashburn this January, and they’ve become my everyday pant. I like Mashburn’s garment-dyed 501s because they taper the leg during the process, making them slimmer than the factory editions but not quite as skinny as a 514 or 511 fit. Mashburn began this process when he wanted to recreate his favorite Levi’s color from the 1960s, stone. With his Stone 2.0 jean, he created the ideal pair of Winter-white denim, an off-white wheat hue with slight hints of gray. Because of their popularity, Mashburn started doing runs of other colors (including a left-field pink and a rugged Air Force blue), but still stocks the classic 501 fit in several variations, including a white variant that I’ll be ordering five more pairs of this summer.
The other reason there’s no better place to buy classic 501s than from Mashburn’s website is because they have the classic blue washes as well, at the very affordable price point of $65. After coming back to Earth from my raw denim fetish, where one pair of the good stuff runs between $180-$250, $65 seems like a revelation and a steal. At that price, you can buy five pairs without breaking the bank. It’s the every man jean indeed.
Then again, few feelings beat slipping on a classic pair of 501s - whether vintage or a modern reproduction from Levi’s Vintage Clothing (LVC) line - that are raw and selvedge, since that’s how most denim was produced up through the 1960s and ‘70s. Each model is a snapshot of how the detailing and cut of the 501 has changed through its lifetime - ever so slightly - from the minimal, clean 1966 501 (whose lack of ornamentation and slim - but not skinny - leg created the template which most modern jeans follow) or the workman-ready 1890 501s with a higher rise and a loose waistband bolstered by a cinch at the back. Though owning every iteration makes one a walking history museum, picking several variations in line with one’s sensibilities is a great way to tell a story through one’s denim drawer.
Yves Saint Laurent said, “I have often said that I wish I had invented blue jeans: the most spectacular, the most practical, the most relaxed and nonchalant. They have expression, modesty, sex appeal, simplicity - all I hope for in my clothes.” From the cowboy tropes of the classic Levi’s advertisement to the look of the rebel without a cause - James Dean and Marlon Brando’s chosen mid ‘50s ensemble of fitted denim and white t-shirts - jeans, 501s especially, have embodied supreme relaxation and assertive sexuality in the most understated way possible. It’s why I wear my 501s almost every day, and why I’ll buy many more both to dress up and dress down.