
The mainstreaming of the high waist has been a balm for many women who never wish to go back to a time when one was constantly at risk for exposing their ass crack. They not only highlight hips and butts - they demand them.”

“Low-rise pants are walking billboards for extreme thinness and androgynous frames,” wrote Rachel Syme in an ode to high-waisted pants in the New Yorker in 2019, “but high-rise styles can conform to bodies of all shapes and sizes. The 2010s were a magical time for those of us who relish the feeling of being sucked and squeezed into our clothing, and although not always objectively comfortable, per se, they offered their own sort of comfort to people who might have previously been pants-resistant. For a handful of years, it felt as though the coolest thing you could wear was a giant beige sack.Įnter: high-rise jeans, which come with their very own girdle in the form of thick, stretchy denim pressed against our stomachs, and land at or above the natural waist. It was, after all, a mere 12 years ago that the media pilloried pop star Jessica Simpson for daring to put high-waisted pants on her size-four body, back when anything but the lowest-low-rise was seen as looking matronly and outdated, as though you were trying to “hide something.” But Simpson was simply ahead of her time: As the 2010s unfolded, the decade brought along a demure minimalism and a resistance to the joyfully sleazy era of exposed hipbones in Juicy Couture tracksuits. People tend to forget how much they used to hate the things they love.

Or, just wear what you want because nobody actually cares.īut this is an undeniable fact: Low-rise jeans are cool again. Arguably the most fashionable thing you can do as a person is find a style that fits your own body and life and stick to it, and if you live long enough, you’ll find yourself on-trend several different times.

No one, obviously, should wear any item of clothing they hate just because other people consider it cool. You can imagine how this trend might concern those of us who do not look like supermodels. Gradually, though, it becomes so ubiquitous and watered down that even people who don’t give all that much thought to what they put on their bodies are buying it at the store (cerulean sweater monologue from The Devil Wears Prada, etc., etc.). It’s because that’s how fashion trends operate: A new look starts bubbling up and, at first, it’s met with disdain and fear and seen as something only meant for the young and professionally beautiful. It’s not that I’m a huge fan of this look - I endured middle and high school in the 2000s and share the requisite fashion-related traumas.

There were whispers going around that the most maligned item of mid-aughts clothing was starting to pop up on Bella Hadid, fashion show runways, and cool young people in places like downtown Manhattan - basically the trifecta of “things that are going to become a Thing.”Īnyway, I set a reminder on my phone that by the year 2025, she’d be wearing low-rise pants again without ever really intending to. Some time ago (as in, before pants made out of denim ceased to be part of our day-to-day wardrobes) I made a bet with a friend who said that she’d never wear low-rise jeans again.
