Distress To Impress

Ah yes, the new shopping emporiums of Belfast. You navigate your way through the brushed aluminium and tinted glass to see clothing that's alarmingly over-priced. You are assailed by grinning staff with whitened teeth and the subtlety of gannets, swooping at some fresh morsel. Some of them start their attack before you're even through the door. It's clearly part of the training and basically, it makes me anxious.

Earlier this week I was looking for some regular jeans, in the classic style. There was a sale on, which still meant that the lines on offer were all above £50. Oh well, I was feeling extravagant. The problem was, every pair seemed to have been attacked by bleach and wire wool, fashionably distressed. Not what I was after.

The assistant charged over at regular intervals, offering to help me find my size and my fit. She wanted me in bootcut, but no, I wouldn't have it. So I declined her offers but finally peeved, I asked if the shop had any jeans that weren't expensively buffed and worn. She shook her head sadly and told me that it was normal these days to wear your jeans thus. The pitiful look in her eye suggested that I try the local camping shop for the more traditional denim.

I was outraged. Didn't she know that I was one of the first generations that hailed the retro joys of Levis 501s, honestly weathered by human activity? Was she not aware of the legendary Face magazine cover of September 1982, when Robert Elms urged us to greet the new austerity with faded pants and a soundtrack of 'Money's Too Tight To Mention'? Back then, we knew that details mattered, so we sourced the original jeans with the red selvage, which we bought at American Classics on the King's Road or Flip in Covent Garden.

It would be too much trouble explaining all this to my assailant in the shop. She doubtless sees an old duffer who doesn't get the new thing. She's not aware of a former style warrior, who sported his look the Wag Club and the Wapping warehouse parties, the turn-up of his ancient jeans fastidiously in tune with the times. Fashion, you surmise, is a cruel business.