Bébé Makes Her Blue Jeans Talk, France

‘Do you know where denim originated?’ My sister Vicki’s question seemed a little random.

‘You mean denim jeans denim?’

‘Yes. Do you know where the first denim was made?’

‘Ahh, no…but…I assume in America.’

‘Actually no. It was France. It’s in the name.’

‘What is?’

‘The place they originated.’

‘Oh…err…Jeansville?’

‘No, in the name ‘denims.’

‘I stared blankly at Vicki. ‘Denims‘, she said.

‘Oh right! Ahhh…Denimsville!’ A look of despair came across her face. ‘Denim-sur-Mer?’

By now I was pretty sure Vicki regretted ever asking me about the origin of denim.

‘No, Nimes.’

‘Nimes?’

‘Yes, Nimes. Denims. De Nimes. Of Nimes. The first denim fabric was made in Nimes.’

‘Ahhhh right!’

Vicki seemed relieved that the franc had finally dropped. I also now realised why she had asked me about denim. We were to meet in France in a few months’ time, and as we were visiting Nimes to check out the Roman Arena amongst other things, she suggested we also visit the Museum of Old Nimes which had a room dedicated to the origin of denim. Always up for a left-of-centre travel destination, I readily agreed.

As fellow Midlife Crisis sufferers will know, time slips by very quickly, and before I knew it Vicki and I were catching up in a flat in Aix-en-Provence, France. Discussing our plans for the next few weeks, we made sure to pencil the Museum of Old Nimes into our itinerary.

On our first day in Nimes, we walked through the maze of narrow, flagstone streets on our way to the Museum, looking forward to being thoroughly educated about the history of denim. I said to Vicki that, seeing as Nimes invented the fabric that went on to make what is arguably the world’s most widely worn garment of the modern era, the town didn’t seem to be doing much to promote the fact.

A single-room display in a small museum? Geez, if I was from Nimes, I would open a tourist mega-complex called DenimWorld. Or perhaps DenimesMonde. The building would be in the shape of an enormous pair of denims, and entering though the waist, visitors would experience a state of the art interactive museum, all-weather denim-themed adventure park, restaurants, bars, and a retail outlet featuring brands from across the globe. Toilet facilities would be entered through the fly of the jeans, and punters would exit through the leg holes.

I was struggling to see how one room could do justice to Nimes’ massive contribution to global fashion. Anyway, trying to maintain an open mind, I followed Vicki through the door of the Museum of Old Nimes. After stumping up our euros, we decided to skip the first room and head straight for the denim display.

We entered the room, prepared to be wowed by the history of this most famous of fabrics. What we saw was…well…underwhelming.

Levi's poster
Levi’s. An American masterpiece.’ Anyone would think that denim was invented in America. Even if you’re in a Museum in the French town where it actually was invented.

One wall of the small room was covered in advertisements for American jeans manufacturers. The opposite wall had displays of denim clothing, few of which had any direct connection to Nimes, apart from being made of denim.

Museum of Old Nimes

In the middle was a ladies’ denim dress and a denim duffel bag. There was scant information about the history of the fabric, and how Nimes had contributed to a world-wide trouser phenomenon. It was definitely no DenimsMonde.

We looked at each other in dismay. Surely there must be more to the denim display than this? A peek in to the adjoining rooms revealed this wasn’t the case. Having been the instigator of our journey into the history of denim, and therefore arguably even more invested in an historic denim experience than I was, Vicki was crestfallen.

The only information provided about these pieces of antique denim was: ‘Examples of serges of Nimes for consumption in foreign countries and the kingdom. 17th and 18th centuries’. Clearly denim’s been around a while.

Museum of Old Nimes

Seeking out a museum staff member, she asked if there was more information available. The staffer disappeared, returning shortly after with a some stapled A4 pages. Thankfully for my sake they were in English, and appeared to have been lifted directly from the internet.

Museum of Old Nimes
A rather odd assortment of denim goodies made somewhere other than Nimes. Except one of the jackets at the far end.
Denim Jacket

Museum information states that this is an small-sized jacket for a teenager, dating back to the late 18th century. At last a piece of Nimes denim history! Presumably

The whole situation seemed very odd to us. Inventing denim is no small matter, and it was astonishing that the museum, and Nimes as a whole, had made barely a room’s worth of fuss about it. Trying to make the most of the situation, we carefully inspected the contents of the room. After about 10 minutes were really none the wiser about the birth of denim and its rise to world pant domination.

Indigo dye
Now here’s something interesting. The thing that looks like a cow pat on the left is in fact, according to the Museum, a dried indigo cake. On the right is a ‘synthetic indigo box‘, ‘used in textile dyeing’ . Apparently, indigo was traditionally sourced from plants of the genus Indigofera, a fact that I had to look up on the ‘net to find out.
Indigo dye

I don’t remember the A4 printout the staff had given us being particularly satisfying, so to find out a little more about the history of denim I had to do some research of my own. Apparently the magic of denim is all in the warp and the weft. Yes that’s right textile fans, the warp and the weft.

Apparently back in the 16th century, all the cool kids were wearing jeane, a ‘hard-wearing cotton corduroy’ that was made in Genoa (in what is now Italy). Weavers in Nimes were attempting a bit of sly copyright breaching by picking apart some jeane , intending to make their own, ahem, bootleg product. Whilst proceeding to stuff up the jeane-making process, they inadvertently produced the first denim cloth.

Whilst busy warping and wefting, the Nimes weavers inadvertently passed the horizontal weft thread under a couple of vertical warp yarns. Evidently pleased with the result, someone decided to dye the warp yarns indigo, leave the wefties white, and the rest, as they say, is (largely unknown) history.

It’s true that Nimes boasts an embarrassment of historic riches. These include the breath-taking Arena, and the Maison Carrée which is an astonishing piece of the old Roman Empire sitting proudly in the middle of town. Maybe in all the justifiable excitement over these ancient treasures, the De Nimes bit of Nimes history has been largely forgotten.

Personally, I reckon it’s time for denim to stand up and take its rightful place amongst the more fancied attractions of Nimes. The city deserves some credit for what you, dear listener, may be wearing right now.

I don’t know if Nimes is quite ready for my vision of a DenimesMonde tourist megaplex. But surely it can expand its commemoration of the city’s fashion icon beyond a small room in a lesser known museum.

Unless otherwise stated, the My French Country Home magazine article Bleu de Nîmes: The History of Denim provided the historical information in this post

Visit the Museum of Old Nimes here

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