I was sifting through my favourite thrift stores last week when I came across a chaotic af table of crumpled up, dusty af, low-rise jeans sprawled out all over the place.
I have never ever once thought I could pull off a pair of low rise skinny jeans. That style has always been exclusively reserved for the off-duty model of the early 2000s.
But I thought f*ck it, I’ll try anything once. Found a pair that looked like it roughly resembled the size of my hips and took them to the change room.
When I tell you, I let out an audible “f*ck.”
Never has a pair of jeans fit me so well.
Never have I thought my butt was so well complimented (by a pair of jeans that were probably the same age as me, mind you). And despite being on university/ freelance wages, I knew they had to come home with me. Because under no circumstances were these being left to die at the chaos denim table.
You’re probably wondering why I’m even telling you this. And that’s totally fair.
No, I’m not just gloating about my first experience in 29 years of finding the most perfect pair of jeans EVER MADE that feel like they were designed specifically for me and nobody else.
I’m telling you because it had me thinking about trends. And about how grateful I am these jeans weren’t thrown in the trash, and that I’m actually surprised they weren’t.
Because low rise jeans became one of the most hated items of clothing in the late 2000s.
Their fall from trend heaven needs to be studied.
Because the jean that once reigned supreme seemingly did a 180 overnight. And now they’re back. Sort of. So what does it all mean?
The death of the low rise jean wasn’t really about the jeans at all.
It was a rejection of the body standards linked to them.
In the Y2K era, the garment itself was rarely the spectacle.
The bare midriff, the hip bones, the sparkly belly button ring on tanned, washboard abs. This was the main event, the actual fashion. What better a garment to then come along, than tight jeans that showcased all these “assets” in the most perfect way? The heroin chic aesthetic never had a better partner in crime than a teeny tiny pair of low rise jeans.
Thus, the rise of the trend directly coincided with the ultra-thin movement of the late 90s and early 2000s.
However, because low rise jeans were designed to sit, well, low, they inherently excluded anyone who didn’t possess a very specific and idealised body type.
(That would be, skinny af.)
I’m sure growing up you heard your mom or your aunt talk about having a “muffin top.” Yeah, that phrase came directly from this era, used as a way to shame anyone who had body fat spilling over these ultra-teeny, super tight waistbands. Denim waistbands, mind you, so one of the least forgiving fabrics in rotation.
You can see where this is going, I’m sure.
As the body positivity movements exploded into the late 2000s, the low rise jean was rejected, as was the pressure, discomfort, and body dysmorphia associated with the style.
High-waisted jeans and looser cuts were embraced as a literal relief.
Like taking off your bra after a long day and changing into an oversized tee. The style offered comfort, coverage and inclusivity.
BUT. The story does not end there.
The smear campaign wore off. The low rise jean is back. And at first glance, completely unchanged, which is rare, for the trend cycle.
There are a couple minor tweaks; slightly less skinny, a more forgiving 7 inch rise instead of an unforgiving 4. They’re also not often paired with teeny tiny crop tops like they once were.
But more or less. Same product, different era. So, what changed?
Gen Z rescued the silhouette from the trend landfill.
Don’t get me wrong, the 20-year trend cycle be cycling; so naturally, the Y2K aesthetics have hit the runway once more. But the reason modern wearers view the jeans as "perfect the way they are" is because younger generations have decoupled the clothing item from the toxic body standards of the past.
For a generation that didn’t experience the OG tabloid culture and aggressive public fat shaming (although, they have their own, internet version) low rise jeans are just a cool, structural silhouette. One that reminds them of the main characters in the movies their older sisters watched growing up.
They’re not a mandate to be thin—just another option of self expression.
Obviously, the timing is a little… ominous. Of course the rise of GLP-1 culture has brought back these kinds of silhouettes. They do, after all, pair perfectly with a pair of hip bones.
However, I’m choosing to take this cultural rebrand and run with it, as fast as I can in my new pair of thrifted skinny low-rise beauties (so, not that fast, but it's the thought that counts).
-Sophie Randell, Writer