In environments where work is sometimes difficult to quantify (yes, a creative person daydreaming on a sofa may actually be working), traditional French blue-collar workwear is now commonly worn. Salvaging this piece of clothing is nothing new. Beaux-Arts students have been buying the item from thrift stores for decades. What is more noteworthy, however, is the widespread presence of what's known as the Bleu de Travail (traditionally a blue jacket and pants) in the service sector, along with its crossover into upmarket fashion (€270 at Paris clothing boutique Soubacq). It's the ultimate, in-your-face signal – a representation of manual effort at a time when it has almost disappeared: The garment stridently declares, "Yoohoo! I'm a real worker!" when the wearer's attitude seems to suggest the opposite.

This genuine workwear, emblematic of factories and machine shops, was named after its Prussian blue color. Its simple, straight cut was designed to meet safety requirements and prevent limbs from being caught in machinery. Its sturdy fabric protected against cold as well as burns, dust and grease splashes. The Bleu de Travail established a sense of belonging and undoubtedly contributed to the emergence of class consciousness – across the divide, white-collar workers didn't get their hands dirty.

Nowadays, start-up workers and 40-something professionals in their Veja footwear, who are trying to keep the cool look, have adopted them. I now have to confess that, a few months ago, I bought myself a pair of blue workwear pants. But I hardly dare take them out of the closet, for fear of participating in what Frustration Magazine calls "sartorial gentrification." Today, the iconic look is no longer to protect you from the fiery metal sparks thrown out by a blowtorch, but to remind you of your distant working-class roots. In your blue-collar garment, you're an upmarket transclass person, celebrating a supposedly vanished world with overplayed nostalgia.

In the same mold as a gentrified neighborhood, gentrified clothing was originally functional blue-collar workwear, which worn casually by higher-income professionals will surreptitiously disseminate its conventions. The new Bleu de Travail shall be "upcycled," come in all colors, but above all, not be dirty. Pockets won't serve to hold wrenches, but vapes. No one will sweat in them. The authenticity of the laboring proletariat that was the soul of the garment will gradually fade and give off fake authenticity. Your workwear will perfectly complement the collection of driftwood mobiles that you bought for a fortune while on the Ile de Ré island.

You have 19.47% of this article left to read. The rest is for subscribers only.