The History of Denim
Ben Hurren
No fabric tells a story quite like denim. From 17th‑century Europe to the streets of modern London, it's been workwear, rebellion, runway, and back again. Here's the journey - and where Vingt Quatre finds its place in it.
The name denim comes from serge de Nîmes, a sturdy cotton fabric woven in the French city of Nîmes. Across the border in Genoa, Italian sailors wore a similar type of hardwearing trousers - the word jeans likely being a French twist on the city's name. By the 1700s, Europe had settled on a tough, indigo‑dyed cloth that would last for generations.
Fast forward to 1873. San Francisco. A businessman named Levi Strauss and his partner Jacob Davis had an idea - to add copper rivets to the stress points on denim trousers. Workers needed tougher gear, and the rivet did the trick. That patent marked the birth of the modern jean, though no one at the time could have guessed the real ripple effects.
For the next seventy years, denim stayed firmly in the workwear lane. Farmers, miners, factory workers. Jeans were functional, not fashionable. Nobody wore them to be seen. They wore them because they lasted.
Then came the 1950s. Marlon Brando in The Wild One. James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause. Suddenly, denim wasn't just for labourers, it was for outlaws. The white t‑shirt, the leather jacket, the jeans introduced a uniform for the unbothered. Conservative America panicked. Schools banned them. Parents disapproved. But teenagers couldn't get enough.
Denim only grew louder in the decades after. Hippies stitched rainbows and peace signs onto their flares. Punks ripped, slashed, and safety‑pinned theirs. Soul boys added a flare. Every subculture grabbed denim and made it their own, seeing a blank canvas for identity. At Vingt Quatre, we think that's the real magic - denim doesn't dictate who you are. It just holds the shape of whatever you bring to it.
While denim became mass‑market and disposable in the West, a different story unfolded in Japan. Purists there kept the old looms running, producing selvedge denim with the same care as the original workwear. Brands like Evisu and Edwin turned denim into a collector's obsession - raw, unwashed, and painstakingly detailed. That obsession with craft is something we recognise. It's why we chose to make our denim in Istanbul, with partners who still cut, sew, and finish by hand. No shortcuts. Just care.
Today, denim is everywhere and anything. Baggy, skinny, bootcut, straight. Vintage washes, raw selvedge, upcycled patches. The internet has collapsed decades of style into one endless scroll. Young people pull from every era at once. But one thing hasn't changed, the durability. That original promise - a pair of trousers that lasts - is still the heartbeat of every great pair of jeans.
At Vingt Quatre, we don't chase every trend. We studied the history to understand what endures - honest construction, timeless fit, and the kind of fabric that earns its place in your wardrobe. The story of denim is long. This is our chapter.
Ben Hurren