At some point over the past few years, every man has, in moments of fumbling, sausage-fingered despair, found himself wondering: Who the hell decided button fly jeans were a good idea and where have all the zippers gone? It's not just an inane question born of bladder rage. Just a decade ago, aside from a few button fly bastions like Levi's 501 jeans, the zipper reigned as the longstanding king of denim. And although button flies have made a swift recovery, especially in the finer jeans of the world, their rise has tracked to a good deal of fear and loathing, visible on forums across the internet's varied dark and light corners alike. So really, whence the button fly?

First, some hosiery history: The first blue jeans out of the Levi's workshop in 1873 had a button fly. Early patents of proto zippers existed at the time, but the real modern McCoy just wasn't an option. By the time zippers gained traction in America in the inter-war era, button flies were an established norm of jeans. But fashionistos and functionalists alike saw the auto-clasp's allure and initiated the Battle of the Fly… which was swiftly and definitively won by the zipper in the 1930s. Even this illustrious publication in 1937 declared (and still does declare) it the superior idea in men's fashion, both for style and for its potential to avoid, "the possibility of unintentional and embarrassing disarray." Yet while the zipper established itself on high, button fly enthusiasts continued a guerrilla campaign, eventually clawing back a stronghold in higher-end denim in the mid-to-late 2000s.

A few previous revivals aside, it's easy to see why zippers stood the test of time. They're fast and convenient. Find tab; pull tab; done. As opposed to: Find button; fumble two-handed; curse and leak; repeat. And they can be a detriment to certain designs. The bulk they add to the crotch, not in a Spinal Tap way but in an, oh dear do you have a condition way, is undeniable, as is the distressing and warping of color and texture around their edges.

But, the traditionalists argue, buttons are just as easy to undo and one can acquire some grace and skill with a little practice. They also avoid zip-slips, are not easily forgotten on the way out of the bathroom, and can be easily replaced rather than rendering jeans unusable when broke like zippers. (Breaks are far more common in zippers, which don't move with the malleability of denim as well as individual buttons.) And that bulk, distressing, and discoloration—well, that's just more authentic, which can be desirable. Perhaps most importantly, though, the problem documented in There's Something about Mary is real. Far too real.

It's style that's won out rather than functionality, though. As blogger Jonathan Mam of Denim Blog sees it, the resurgence is all about "a transition back to tradition, [in the] past few seasons especially." Slim jeans and those companies that prefer convenience will stick with the flat line, contour fitting, and ease of zippers. But, says Mam, for more general style producers and consumers, "the '90s aesthetic [is] also very prominent at the moment, which I think also helps push [button flies. Instead of just being inspired by the look, designers and people are choosing to be authentic and embody the vibe all the way."

Authenticity's a weak claim over a crotch. It's likely that buttons will have their day in the sun for a few seasons more. But in the end, even with the breaks and lack of bulge, the path of least resistance will most likely win out soon. If history and male histrionics teach us anything, the zipper shall rise again.

Mark Hay Mark Hay is a Brooklyn-based reporter who writes frequently about health, medicine, and sex for publications like Men’s Health, Men’s Journal, VICE, Aeon, Slate, and more.

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