BY DESIGN : The Big E : Capital letters on Your LEVI’S Label Counl Put Cash in Your Pocket
Sheila Clancy remembers the last time she almost bought a pair of 501s. She had just handed over $5 for used Levi’s at a Ventura swap meet when a guy came up behind her and offered the seller $15.
“I told him, ‘Wait a minute. You can’t do that. I’ve already paid,’ ” says Clancy, a veteran antiques dealer. “And the seller said, ‘Huh-uh, here,’ and handed me back my money.
“Well, I flipped out and grabbed hold of the guy and told him if he didn’t stay out of my way, I’d kill him. Then I was very frustrated with myself because I looked like the idiot, grabbing some guy.”
Used jeans and jackets have been causing commotion ever since the Japanese started to go crazy for denim a decade ago. Levi’s in particular seem to convey a truly American image, something associated with cowboys, James Dean and Bruce Springsteen. The fact that they’ve been worn by Americans just adds to their mystique.
“We had truckloads of jeans shipped in from all over the Western states and the Japanese would line up to buy them,” says Larry Craig, a former jeans trafficker and co-owner of Locals Only, an upscale vintage clothing shop in Laguna Beach. “We would charge them $4 a pair and thought it was great.”
Japanese scouts combed swap meets, thrift shops and resale stores and bought up all the 501s--the Levi’s model with the button fly--they could find. They examined each pair in hopes of scoring really big on the older Big E jeans. Before 1971, the sliver of red on the back pocket said “Levi’s” in capital letters. Since then, the e has been lowercase to conform to the company’s new logo.
Used Levi’s prices have skyrocketed since Craig and his partner, Jim Olarte, started dealing in denim in the early ‘80s. At a Paris auction house last year, two pairs of ‘30s Big Es with copper rivets on the back pockets went for $3,500. Six months ago, Bob Butler, a San Fernando Valley dealer in old denim and other collectibles, sold a ‘30s Levi’s jacket--the No. 1 or one-pocket jacket, as the Japanese call it--to an English dealer for $600, and that was with a hole in the sleeve.
Even a pair of small e used 501s now retails locally in such stores as Fred Segal Santa Monica ($49), Urban Outfitters ($30) and Jet Rag ($23). And in other parts of the world, prices are considerably higher. In Japan and Thailand, used 501s sell for about $70; a pair of soft, nicely faded jeans starts at $40 in parts of Europe.
Denim has been a favorite uniform of Americans since Levi Strauss fashioned the first button-fly jeans in the 1870s for cowboys and miners. But it took almost a century for them to become a wardrobe staple--and fresh fodder for fashion gimmickry.
“I remember my uncle trying to get his Levi’s faded by turning the garden hose on them and then leaving them out in the sun,” Butler says, “and that was in 1948.”
Still, blue jeans had a bad reputation of sorts for a while, partly because of the bad boys, including James Dean and Elvis, who wore them and partly because the copper rivets on the back pockets destroyed furniture. The company replaced the rivets with bar-tacking in 1966.
There are a lot of used 501s to be had, but don’t think visits to a few yard sales or thrift shops will make you a killing. Most likely, someone else has been there first. Ads on billboards, the Yellow Pages, even on milk cartons blare 800 numbers offering cash rewards for used and vintage Levi’s. A very new black Mercedes has been spotted around Los Angeles with the license plate “BIGE 501.” USA 501, a vintage clothing store in West Los Angeles, proclaims in newspaper ads that it will pay up to $17 for used jeans. And in Reseda, a pawn shop buys gold and silver and used 501s.
“These Levi’s buyers are so secretive, I’ve heard it referred to as a cult,” Butler says. “Some of us are struggling to make a few hundred dollars and these people pull into the Rose Bowl (flea market) with a U-Haul truck and pull out thousands of Levi’s jeans and jackets, and the Japanese show up with big thick rolls of hundred-dollar bills.”
Craig has also become disenchanted with the used-jeans market. Instead of wholesaling, he now sells them only at his store, and only if they are No. 1s. (Dealers grade the condition of jeans 1 to 4. A No. 1 has no stains or holes and its original hem; a No. 2 might have holes no bigger than a dime, a torn button hole or belt loop; a No. 3 might have spots and/or busted-out knees, and a No. 4 is primarily used for parts.)
“It used to be vintage dealers that have a love of old clothing that were in this business,” he says. “Now it’s a whole new group of people driven by greed. Friends of mine have made millions on 501s. They have charitable clothing companies like Goodwill and Salvation Army that save 501s for them.”
These days, Levi’s can be turned into instant cash, just like precious metals. “Levi’s are not like regular antiques or art; they are a commodity,” Butler adds. “If I find something really nice and old, I can take it out and turn it around within two hours.”
Because of the shaky global economy, the market for vintage denim--and other American collectibles--is in a slump in Japan. But other countries have picked up the slack.
“The Italians and the Germans have been coming to us,” says Pam Garvin, co-owner of U.S. Denim in Rancho Cordova, near Sacramento. The company enlists recycling centers throughout the state to collect used 501s, paying up to $12 for a pair in No. 1 condition. It then cleans, repairs and sells the jeans for export to Europe.
U.S. Denim collects about 10,000 used 501s a month, and they are immediately out the door. “We could sell twice as many,” Garvin says. “The hard part is getting them.”
The city of Glendale is among Garvin’s steady suppliers. Along with glass, aluminum cans and newspapers, its recycling center handles denim. Manager Rick Eidson buys about 25 to 30 pairs of used 501s per week, paying $1 to $9 per pair, depending on condition.
“We use the jeans as a teaser to get people to recycle,” Eidson says. “I pretty much buy every 501 jean that comes through the door, though, because even the ripped ones can be used for parts.”
But used jeans are no longer on antiques dealer Clancy’s agenda. She would much rather spend time searching for things she loves, such as California pottery or Victorian jewelry. “I’m not even looking now,” Clancy says. “The competition is too tough and I don’t want any more confrontations.”
She may have given up on denim for now, but tomorrow, who knows? Clancy might not be able to resist a pair of ‘60s psychedelic Chemin de Fer bell-bottoms or even a pair of ‘80s acid-washed stretch jeans.
“There’s a whole mystique to denim,” Butler says. “Someone should really make a movie about this.”
THE REAL WORLD
Somebody is always trying to tweak the blue jean, mess with its utilitarian image by making it skintight, studded, patched, fringed, acid-washed or baggy beyond belief. This year’s “We’ve been doing it for a year, though it’s new to other people. I like the way it looks.”--Blake Fairchild, 29, Hawthorne
“I buy my pants extra long so I can cuff them. But I’m not one of the trendy people--I’ve been doing it before any of them were around.”--Frank Rodriguez, 18, Arcadia
“I thought my overalls looked better cuffed. I know it’s fashionable, but I also just like it.”--Jackie Tallarido, 18, Thousand Oaks
Capital Gains
Used and vintage denim, particularly with a Levi’s label, has been in demand since the early ‘80s in Japan and Europe. Ads on billboards, in the Yellow Pages, even on milk cartons offer cash rewards for jeans and jackets.
Vintage: Levi’s with this pre-1971 tag can bring thousands. At a Paris auction house last year, two pairs of ‘30s Big Es with copper rivets on the back pockets went for $3,5000.
Used: Dealers, pawn shops, even recycling centers buy gently worn 501s. Such local stores as Urban Outfitters and Jet Rag sell them for $23 and up.
