When the definitive history of denim's rise from lowly work wear to status symbol is written, it should have a chapter on Salvatore Parasuco.
Over the past three decades, from his Montreal perch, Mr. Parasuco has always been a stitch or two ahead of the rest of the world when it comes to starting fashion trends -- from the acid washes of the eighties to today's to-die-for embroidery and studs.
At 52, Mr. Parasuco sits atop a global denim empire that pumps out 1.6 million pairs of premium-priced jeans a year, under the Parasuco and People for Peace labels, generating $130-million in sales and, just as important, the kind of buzz that money can't buy.
When your jeans already grace the butts of Beyoncé and Britney, you should be able to sit on your success. But Mr. Parasuco aims to build a big-league brand on par with Prada or Gucci. Unfortunately for Montreal, he is just not sure his plans include the city his family brought him to from Italy 48 years ago.
Mr. Parasuco prompted more shrieks than a Betsey Johnson fashion show when he recently revealed he has pretty much decided to move the headquarters of his Parasuco Jeans Inc. to either Los Angeles or Milan. In Montreal, that went over about as well as wearing white socks with sandals.
Montreal's rag trade, still the country's oldest, biggest and most storied, has been struggling to survive a tsunami of Asian imports and overcome its Old Economy image. Parasuco has been a shining example as the city attempts to transform itself from a centre for large-scale clothing production into a North American hub for high-end fashion design, marketing and distribution.
Suddenly, Mr. Parasuco's musings have ripped to threads the premise on which most of the Montreal industry's designs for survival are based.
Contrary to conventional wisdom, the gradual reduction of barriers to international trade -- most recently the Jan. 1 elimination of quotas on imports from China -- has not sounded the death knell for Quebec's garment industry.
While apparel manufacturing jobs have been declining, to the current 35,000 from more than 50,000 only a few years ago, employment is shifting to higher-paying design, marketing and finishing jobs in the high-end clothing sector.
Exceptions exist: Mid-market suit maker Peerless Clothing has managed to thrive, thanks to its highly efficient methods of production. Montreal-based retailer Le Château Inc. continues to manufacture half of its inventory locally because of the fast turnaround it needs to replenish racks with bestsellers.
The Parasuco model is, however, most representative of the trend in Montreal's schmatte trade.
For years, Parasuco has manufactured its cheapest lines -- about 60 per cent of total production, jeans that sell for under $200 -- in Asia. Another 30 per cent is made in Italy. The remaining 10 per cent, consisting of its most exclusive designs that sell for up to $1,200 a pair, is produced in Montreal.
Montreal is also the centre for the technical work that comes between the design and production stages, for marketing and for distribution. It's out of the Montreal head office, too, that Mr. Parasuco oversees his fast-growing retail network, which will soon include an outlet in New York's Soho district.
Mr. Parasuco had been set to build a new $25-million Montreal headquarters cum manufacturing/distribution centre -- thanks, in part, to a $500,000 subsidy from the Quebec government. But he recently put those plans on hold, complaining that a penury of skilled labour, high taxes, U.S. import quotas and a lack of government support were forcing him to consider moving to L.A. or Milan, both cities where Parasuco already has design centres.
He expects to make a decision by next month.
To those who think Mr. Parasuco is bluffing in order to snag more state aid, he responds that he's not sure there's anything governments here can do to entice him to stay. L.A. is the centre of the premium jeans industry, he notes, because if you want the stars to wear your stuff -- and you do because theirs are the butts that launch a thousand copycats -- you've got to go to them. Milan's design expertise, meanwhile, is unmatched.
If Mr. Parasuco does go, at least one rising Montreal jeans mogul won't be following him. Eric Wazana's Second jeans are worn by Halle Berry, Alicia Keys, Jennifer Aniston and Cameron Diaz. But Mr. Wazana, 33, does not have Hollywood stars in his eyes.
Second Denim Co. will continue to design and manufacture its jeans in Montreal, Mr. Wazana says, because the city is an ideal platform between Europe and the United States to test and launch fashions.
"People in Montreal are very attentive to everything that is new. It's easier to experiment here. In the States, they're all sheep."
The fate of Montreal's rag trade may just depend on whether Mr. Wazana, too, earns a chapter in that history of denim.
Konrad Yakabuski