Others may hate them, but I love them.
Is there any more divisive trend than low-rise jeans? Last week on Vogue.com, in an article titled “For Goodness’ Sake, Please Let Us Not Return to Low-Rise Jeans,” Molly Jong-Fast decries those low-slung jeans from the all-excess Y2K era. She argues that they’re a symbol of the hypersexualized noughties, when women in the limelight—specifically Britney Spears and Brittany Murphy—were mistreated, and toxic diet culture was the norm. “We are a world scrambling to come out of a pandemic that has killed millions of people, many of our governments are struggling with everything from the supply chain to the rise of autocracy. Life is hard enough without jeans that inadvertently show your butt and make you feel bad about your stomach,” she writes. To each their own.
Times have changed since the early ‘00s. The resurgence of low-rise jeans comes as we are coming out of a pandemic that was filled with sweatpants. People want to dress up, go out, and show flesh. This is also a time when we are attempting to break down the concept of the “perfect body.” Though I don’t think they are particularly flattering on my long-torsoed body, I love low-rise jeans. I live for a pair that sits so low, I know that the wearer had to get several rounds of laser hair removal. (Also: I love dedication.) Let me see that slice of midriff, that sparkly belly button ring, that lower-back tattoo. I love women whose fashion taste rides on an NSFW, or not safe for work, moment. It’s not about the pants, really, but about the philosophy they represent. It’s unabashed confidence at its finest.
This story originally appeared on: Vogue - Author:Liana Satenstein