Calling Noe Valley Designers
July 22nd, 2008If you’re an independent designer living or working in Noe Valley, get in touch with me using the contact form. I’m working on a story that I’d like to talk to you about….
If you’re an independent designer living or working in Noe Valley, get in touch with me using the contact form. I’m working on a story that I’d like to talk to you about….
Things will be quiet around here while SF Indie Fashion maxes and relaxes over the holiday weekend in Michigan. Be back Tuesday with the normal daily dose of indie fashion tidbits from around the Bay Area.

Warning: certain of the images you are about to see contain disturbing material. In fact, I would even recommend reading this post on an empty stomach, perhaps with a friend or loved one nearby for comfort. Because what you are about to see is not pretty. I am personally still recovering (as is my injured muffin-top). Perhaps I shouldn’t be so disturbed, because it’s my pasty white stomach and borderline cameltoe (there, I said it) that I am about to show you. And I should probably be comfortable with them by now. But you, well, that’s another story. You didn’t ask for this. And for that, friends, I am truly sorry (not that you didn’t ask, but that you have to suffer through this viewing). But once I begin an investigation, I don’t stop until the mission is complete.
As you may know, about a month ago, I decided to try out Indi Denim, an East Bay company promising $135 custom jeans cut to customers’ measurements and designed according to their specifications. For background, you can read my two previous posts on the ordering process:
Last week, I finally received my jeans. They arrived on Wednesday June 25, just shy of a month after I placed the order on May 31. They were neatly packaged and arrived carrying all the details I’d requested (back pocket flaps, distressed edges, etc.):


But the fit. Oh, man. It was terrible. I’d taken each measurement several times using a dressmaker’s tape measure, so I was surprised at how off it was.
Against my better judgment, I now reveal to you the tragi-comedy that ensued as I stepped into these jeans:

I know. You can say it. Oh MY god. As my husband said with his characteristic matter-of-factness, right before shielding his eyes, “The fit is not good.”
Next up, my impression of Bret Michaels, only without the massive unit. Just check out this pick from Rock of Love 2, and I think you’ll get what I’m sayin’.

I would show you more, but they are really embarrassing. So I won’t. Because I am not sure my fragile self-esteem can recover from knowing that tons of strangers have seen my denim-swaddled crotch region in this compromised state (or any state, for that matter).
To be fair to the folks at Indi Denim, they do offer customers the option to reorder for free, but I didn’t feel like expending the energy to re-enter all my measurements, fit choices and specifications. On top of that, I wasn’t that impressed with the fabric. So I’m returning them to the company, which does offer a refund within 30 days, minus the cost of shipping.
And that, folks, is all I have to say about that.
Don’t forget to vote for your favorite indie businesses in this year’s Best of the Bay poll by the San Francisco Bay Guardian. The deadline for casting your vote is 5 p.m. July 2.

…then be sure to check out my friend Eloise’s show Paper Doll on display at the Anthropologie Rockefeller Center through August 1. A Brooklyn-based fashion designer and graphic artist, Eloise Corr Danch built this massive paper doll by hand over the course of several weeks - she even had the paper she used custom-printed. Congrats E!
(** See Indi Denim Part 1 for the ramp up.)
Earlier in the month, I decided to embark upon an experiment and try out Emeryville-based Indi Denim and offer up my experience for anyone out there who might be thinking about placing an order. The proposition is an intriguing one: for $135, design your own custom jeans online and receive a pair unlike any other out there, fit perfectly to your measurements, within a few weeks.
After placing my order on May 30, I received an email on June 4 informing me that there had been a delay in the shipment of my order due to the “quality assurance process.” At the time, the email I received estimated the ship date for my jeans as July 11. Needless to say, I was like, man, I really have to wait six weeks for them to ship? That kind of went against my need it, want it, get it now sensibilities. But I resolved to be zen about it.
So yesterday, June 18, I was surprised to receive another email letting me know that my jeans had shipped and would arrive within 5-7 business days. That’s certainly better than July 11. But I was surprised to read this on shipping email: “Please note, indi orders ship from Mexico, and it may take a few days before your tracking number is found in the domestic UPS system.”
I’ve never seen a message like that on a shipping confirmation email. It struck me as a little strange - but not all that worrisome.
But here’s what I found to be a bit of a letdown, but I didn’t realize the jeans were being made outside the country and shipped in - and that’s less desirable to me for many reasons. I try to buy local or from independent folks as much as possible - it’s sort of a point of pride for me. So I was a little like, uh-oh, am I in sweatshop territory here? Who knows. I looked on the site again today for any information about the manufacturing process, location, worker conditions, etc. I didn’t find anything. That’s not to say that the company is doing anything untoward - they may be running the best little factory in all of Mexico for all I know. But the point is that I don’t know who made my jeans or what conditions they are working in while making them. And I think about that kind of stuff.
And here ends the update. I’ll be back with images and a final review once I receive my pair.
Not to be a totally snarky biatch or anything, but it seems like this fashion blog could have thought of a more creative name for its new daily email newsletter. I dunno, kinda feel like I’ve heard something v. similar to that name before….
For someone who loves clothing and, generally speaking, the hunt for and acquisition of rad things, I seriously huh-huh-hate trying on jeans.
Really, if I have to try on jeans, I feel like I can cross the gym off my list for the day. Just try carrying nine pairs of heavy denim jeans slung over your arm as you weave among racks, lifting, examining waist bands, leg shape and pocket style. And then comes the dressing room, where it’s off with your clothes, on with pair one, off with pair one, on with pair two, straining and jumping to get into pair two, then off with pair two and on to wrestling pair three out from under the pile you’ve created on the floor and then more straining and jumping and bending and twisting to get into pair four. And so on and so on. There’s nothing quite like seeing yourself, sweaty and red-faced in a crappy-fitting pair of jeans to make you want to go home, crawl into bed and die. Okay, going a little far. But seriously, I hate shopping for jeans.
Ironically, I wear them ev-uh-ry-day. Except for those days when I stay in sweats (or rotate pairs of sweats) from morning ’til night, because that sort of thing can happen all too easily when you’re a freelance writer and nobody cares what you look like when you’re at work except your dog, who is pretty easy-going about the dress code.
Reading this, you can probably see why I was intrigued by Indi Denim, an East Bay company that allows you to create custom jeans online for $135. In my quest to a) avoid denim shopping and b) offer myself up as an online retail guinea pig to other indie fashion consumers, I’m going to report on my experience with the company from beginning to end.
Why? Because it can be a bit daunting to drop $135 on jeans you’ve never seen, much less tried on. But the concept intrigues me. So I decided, what the hey, let’s live crazy dangerously and offer our $135 up for the sake of SF Indie Fashion readers. Oh yeah, and my lower half, which I do sincerely hope will be wearing a decent, if not rad, pair of jeans when this is all said and done.
I ran across the company for the first time at the most recent Thread Show to hit the city. I did get to see the denim washes and fabric choices in person, but I didn’t examine them with a microscope or ask for the company history while I was meandering past the booth. Frankly, all I saw was a bunch of jeans and promptly though, F no! I’m not in the mood to sweat it up right now.
Before I placed my order last week, I admit I went through the site’s customization process three times. There were several reasons for this. Mainly, I discovered that, despite my interest in fashion, I lack vision. I simply didn’t know what kind of jeans I wanted, need or would look good in. So I had to consider the options, then go back later and continue designing the pair I would eventually purchase.
Indi Denim offers only two basic cuts, one slightly more relaxed than the other, and two fabric types (slightly stretchy and non-stretchy), but four rises (super low, low, mid and high waist) a variety of washes ranging from your basic blue to a dark resin.
After selecting the cut, fabric and wash, the site offers you options for the leg. I chose boot cut, but narrow, flare, capri and wide leg options were also available. Next you can select the hem type, a coin pocket, presence of a front crease, distressing around the pockets and hem, sandblasting on the thighs, pocket shape, pocket flaps, pocket embellishments and pocket embellishment thread color. The last steps involve entering a series of measurements and answering some body shape questions using illustrations (the pseudo muffin top was my personal favorite).
During the process, I realized how difficult it is to visualize what, say, boot cut jeans with back flap pockets and no crease will look like on my body in comparison with, say, flare leg jeans with plain pockets and sandblasting on the thighs. Did I trust myself enough to create a pair that would actually look good on my body, as opposed to just inside my mind (where I live out my days with Giselle-like grace and poise)? One night, I actually woke up around 4 a.m. wondering about the thread color on my would-be back pockets. Should I go with the navy blue? Or perhaps the camel? These are the kinds of questions that plague me in my sleep.
After making all my selections and resolving to let myself off the hook (as both a consumer and a designer) if the jeans arrived looking like escapees from the Hot Kiss warehouse, I bought the suckers.
Then I sat there wondering an important question I should have, perhaps, pondered before entering into the process in the first place: how long does it take to create and ship a custom pair of jeans. Well, folks, it turns out that it’s 4 to 6 weeks. OH MY GOD.
As someone who does not do well with delayed gratification of any kind (hedonists like myself rarely have the time for this kind of folly), I felt an itty bitty bubbling of panic. Would I actually still be waiting for this potentially frightening pair of jeans in July? When was the last time I have waited so long for something? Not since the rebate for my last Bluetooth headset. Thoughts of hope swirled in my brain. Could it be that this was just a warning? A worst-case prediction of their arrival? Did this shipping time account for someone walking across the Bay Bridge on foot, perhaps stopping for a picnic on Treasure Island, to deliver my jeans?
Well, we shall see. While I can’t say I’ll do it on a regular basis, I would be willing to wait a month for any jeans that fit perfectly, look good, feel good and look of decent quality. I would be willing to wait longer if the jeans kicked serious ass.
Until they arrive, I sit here, pondering my design choices, my trust of on-screen color swatches and the likelihood, after so many years, of finding a viable alternative to the horrors of denim try-on hell.
Expect an update later this summer.