That journey for the perfect pair of jeans never really ends.
But sometimes you find a really nice rest area...
Give a warm Yankee welcome to Raleigh Denim, a funky maze of flawless denim by way of North Carolina, now open in Nolita.
You may know the Raleigh folks—a husband-and-wife team. They hand-cut and sew these jeans. The kind that wear you until you beat them into submission—at which point they become the denim equivalent of a loyal old Labrador. Just the best damn friend you could ask for. Anyway, this place is largely devoted to said jeans.
It’s basically an art installation where you’ll leave with pairs of tear-inducingly glorious pantaloons. Sweeping clusters of paper airplanes are woven through skeletal tunnels of white piping. An ancient-looking sewing machine sits atop a green oriental rug—that’s where your on-site hem adjustments will be done. That rack holding both the natty collection of button-downs and the leather jacket you’ve been eyeing since you walked in: yes, it is an auger.
As for the jeans, everything’s limited-run (and White Oak–milled, naturally), and they’ve got a handful of washes and colors (yes, “jack-o’-lantern” is among them) to go along with the raw stuff.
Then, of course, there’s the jeans Ferris wheel. It’s an iron-ish wheel with small cars full of jeans. Right behind the shirts.
You know, the jeans Ferris wheel.
But sometimes you find a really nice rest area...
Give a warm Yankee welcome to Raleigh Denim, a funky maze of flawless denim by way of North Carolina, now open in Nolita.
You may know the Raleigh folks—a husband-and-wife team. They hand-cut and sew these jeans. The kind that wear you until you beat them into submission—at which point they become the denim equivalent of a loyal old Labrador. Just the best damn friend you could ask for. Anyway, this place is largely devoted to said jeans.
It’s basically an art installation where you’ll leave with pairs of tear-inducingly glorious pantaloons. Sweeping clusters of paper airplanes are woven through skeletal tunnels of white piping. An ancient-looking sewing machine sits atop a green oriental rug—that’s where your on-site hem adjustments will be done. That rack holding both the natty collection of button-downs and the leather jacket you’ve been eyeing since you walked in: yes, it is an auger.
As for the jeans, everything’s limited-run (and White Oak–milled, naturally), and they’ve got a handful of washes and colors (yes, “jack-o’-lantern” is among them) to go along with the raw stuff.
Then, of course, there’s the jeans Ferris wheel. It’s an iron-ish wheel with small cars full of jeans. Right behind the shirts.
You know, the jeans Ferris wheel.
