It's a Pants Party and You're Invited
A good pant is hard to find.
A few weeks ago, I received an enticing email blast from Lindsey Weber, Kate Dries, and Allison McCann. It read as follows:
WE'D LIKE TO INVITE YOU TO A PANTS PARTY
A GATHERING WHERE YOU (MAYBE! NO PRESSURE!) BUY BEAUTIFUL HAND-DYED CUSTOM-FITTED STAN RAY PANTS!
COME BY, GET FITTED AND TRY ON SOME REALLY GREAT PANTS
(IF YOU SEEN US LATELY, WE'RE PROBABLY WEARING THESE PANTS!)
The three friends, all of whom are Media People I Admire, share a love of The Consistency Project, a retail space and one-stop-pant-shop that Natasha Halesworth officially opened in 2019. Allison discovered it back when it was in Greenpoint, and then told Kate and Lindsey about it, who then told their friends, and so on. The pants party, which took place on Sunday afternoon at TCP’s new-ish space on Atlantic Avenue, was an opportunity to further spread the gospel (and get a sweet PANTSPARTY discount).
I know I said that Repair Month is about taking care of the stuff we already own instead of buying more of it, but what The Consistency Project does feels relevant because 1) they only sell vintage and deadstock, specifically Levi’s jeans and Stan Ray painter pants, which they dye in various colors. And 2) they provide an in-house tailoring service to ensure you’ll be happy in your pants for years to come. If you change your mind, or your body changes, they also have a buy-back program where you can bring them in and exchange for store credit.
When Allison got pregnant in 2020, she brought her custom patchwork Stan Rays back to TCP and they installed an elastic waistband. “Then in 2021, I was un-pregnant, and they were really baggy, so I took them back and they put a regular waistband in and cinched the waist,” she says. “Then I got pregnant again in 2022, and I brought them back on Sunday and they let the waist out again a little bit. So I'm on my third iteration of the same pants in various stages of pregnancy and postpartum.”
Natasha is a self-proclaimed Pants Person who has been slowly building (or “hoarding,” as she puts it) pairs for the last eight years in various basements, studios, and storage units. “It takes a lot of inventory to create a successful experience,” she says. “If someone comes in feeling vulnerable and you don't have enough options for them, it kind of defeats the purpose.”
The Consistency Project is meant to be a friendly place where you can walk in and try on a million different pairs if you want, and work with Natasha and her team to get the perfect fit. You can also make an appointment — the ultimate luxury. They’ll take your measurements and ask if you like your pants high or low; tight or loose; soft or stiff; and where you want the hem to fall. “It's a very, very small change with a huge impact,” Natasha says of hemming in general.
As simple as it sounds, it’s rare to have a pleasant pants-shopping experience these days. There are so many styles to choose from, and if you do find one you like, it’s a miracle if it fits. “One girl came in and told me it took her two years to find the best black pants,” Natasha says. “Two years!” It’s no wonder so many women are going pant-less.
If you need to unpack some serious pants trauma, TCP happens to share its space with two therapists. (Most New York thing, ever.) Although, that will cost you extra. TCP’s vintage/deadstock Stan Rays go for $130; overdyed pairs, $145; and Levi's, $195. All prices include consultation, fitting, and alterations.
I stayed at the pants party for about two hours, and I’m not exaggerating when I say I spent 90 percent of the time talking about pants. So much to say! So many feels! Many attendees brought their friends for support and guidance, and I made a few new ones as I emerged from the fitting room to constructive oohs and aahs. Kate told me that TCP pants make up the majority of her pants collection now. Meanwhile, Lindsey wore a custom pink TCP set on her recent Who? Weekly podcast tour along with her co-host, Bobby Finger, who was also at the event on Sunday.
I was inspired to try on a pair of brown Stan Ray pants, which Natasha disappeared into the basement to find after taking my measurements. I don’t own a single pair of brown pants, or work pants, but they’re so soft and the pockets are so deep, I thought they could be my new “work from home pants.” They’re just the right amount of loose, so Natasha only pinned the bottoms, specifically when I was barefoot since I never wear shoes at home.
“The party was so fun!” Kate said afterwards. “I want to do another one. Just good vibes — a rarity when shopping.”
NEXT TIME: Let’s talk about how to talk to your tailor.