Illustration: Ward Sutton

Would getting larger jeans be such a big deal? Heck, big jeans are all the rage while I'm still sporting a straight-legged style designed over 100 years ago for workmen. But in my estimation it would be an admittance of failure. Did I really want to look like a stiltwalker in a pair of wide-legged dungarees because my waistline had a problem of creeping expansion?

As an absurd compromise, I went out and bought jeans with a waist size of 40 - 4 inches bigger than what I'd been wearing. I needed a belt to keep them up, but it made my innards happy and put my waistline out of my mind. A co-worker even complimented me on the fit which fell somewhere between baggy-assed construction worker and a clown.

After several months of coffee breakfasts and salad lunches the expansion in my midriff subsided and I was ready to dip my toes back into the jeans pool.

I've always been a Levi's man. Even through the tough high school years when form-fitting Sergio Valente and Jordache jeans were all the rage in auto shop. These days there are more styles of jeans than flavors of ice cream at Baskin Robbins: wide leg, relaxed fit, boot cut, stovepipe - just to name a few.

I decide to survey the current state of jeans on the up-to-the-minute World Wide Web. First stop, the Jeans Page, devoted to pictures of women in tight jeans and featuring a butt-of-the-month. Intriguing, but not very informative. I look up the Denim Survival Guide. It reports that the average American owns 7.03 pairs of jeans, up from 6.87 two years ago. I lag behind the rest of the United States by at least a pair or two. Of course jeans don't have to be made of denim; any garment with five pockets (two in the back and front and a small change pocket) falls into the classification. The pockets are half the reason I wear jeans all the time. Donning khakis or dress pants means constantly wondering if your keys or change are going to wriggle out. The other big reason I love jeans is that you don't have to worry about ironing - just pick 'em off the floor and go.

I'm obviously not the only one crazy about them. The jeans market is booming - 1996 sales are estimated at 10.6 billion by the NPD group (a Long Island market-research firm). However, big companies like Levi's and VF Corporation (who makes Lee and Wrangler) recently announced layoffs because their market-share growth is slowing down.

It's a sign of the times and a sign that I should be diversifying my jeans pool away from the traditional.

In search of the cutting edge, I duck into Agent Aloha (506 South St.), a new store for ravers and lounge-heads. A $55 pair of Kik Wear '91s with black and white racing stripes gets my motor running. I rip them off the hanger and make a beeline for the dressing room. I have to take a deep breath easing the button fly together, but take comfort in the knowing that my buns will be screaming "1997" in a matter of moments. I glance in the mirror and then do a double take, those racing stripes combined with the tight-as-a-pin-cushion fit makes me look like a chubby drum majorette. I didn't eat all of those salads for this.

A little despondent that I can't find a pair of Kik Wear '91s with a waist size over 36, I drag my thighs over to Gilly Jeans (320 South St.) for a more classic style.

"These are vareeexpensive jeans, but they are the best," assures a salesman with a scruffy beard and Italian accent. "Feel that! Feel that!" he implores, holding out a pair of Replay jeans.

The denim is almost as soft as velvet - a luxurious left hand twill. (Denim is woven as either a left-hand twill or right-hand twill. The right hand twills run from left to right in a northeasterly direction and are more rugged. The left hand twills run from right to left in a northwesterly direction and are softer, but less durable.)

I try on a pair of black Replays with a flowery chevron stitched into the back pockets. They slide on easily like old Levi's, but the seat is cut to perk up your assets.

"Look how well it fits," enthuses the salesman, as if he's never seen anyone wear jeans that fit so perfectly. "They look great." I'm so impressed by the look that I let a "Thank you" slip out of my mouth before realizing how stupid it sounds. Still, with a $100 pricetag, it's hard to justify buying a pair of jeans that only fit slightly better than Levi's when I can probably get two or three pairs of Levi's for that amount of moolah.

I slink over to Sub Zero skate shop (520 S. Fifth St.) searching for more adventurous jeans.

"Designed for maximum comfort with minimum hassle," reads the tag of the $55 Powell Skateboards jeans. Here are a pair of jeans after my own heart. They're roomy around the legs, but not too floppy. Obviously made to skateboard in, they have some give in the waist and the denim is light enough that it won't make you break a sweat on a hot summer day.

I hem and haw and trudge to I. Goldberg's (902 Chestnut St.) - the jeans warehouse of Center City. I look over the Lee jeans and Wranglers and stumble upon the stacks of Levi's.

Suddenly, I feel like an old repentant husband who's returned to make up after a wild weekend. Good old reliable Levi's. But even Levi's are spicing things up these days to maintain their share of the market. I take a shine to a $40 pair of green 554s - straight-leg, relaxed fit with a 38 waist. As I give myself the once over in the dressing room I can feel a little more air than normal circulating around my ankles and plenty of space in the waist. Too bad Mr. Greenjeans isn't around anymore because these things would have been great for him to skateboard in. If only relaxed fit had been around when I was a kid, I could have been hip instead of husky.

- Neil Gladstone