COLORADO SPRINGS, Colo. — Danielle Chrysogelos stands with her back to a full-length mirror, holds her black sweat shirt above her waist and twists her chin around to examine her bum.

Behind a brown velvet curtain, her friend Kristi Gates pulls on a pair of Jelessy Jeans embellished with a dramatic golden stitch.

Gates pulls back her dressing room curtain, looks at her friend, and says: “They’re so cute on you — look at your butt!”

“I like those on you,” responds Chrysogelos, twirling around to face her friend.

Glasses of wine sit on a table in the center of the dressing room. In the front of the store, a handful of women munch on plates of veggies and chips and salsa.

Besides this handful of shoppers and the Gloss staff, the boutique at The Promenade Shops at Briargate in north Colorado Springs is empty. A sign on the door asks the public to come back in the morning: Tonight the store is open only to those with an invitation to a private jeans party.

Private shopping parties have been going on in big cities for years, and the trend has spread from coast to coast. Think of it as a Chuck E. Cheese’s birthday party for grown-ups: One person — the host — invites a group of her friends, where they have the run of the store for an evening of shopping, wine, gabbing and more shopping. The host has to bring a certain number of friends to shut the place down, and most stores have a purchase minimum.

“It’s really a way to personally connect with consumers,” said Margaret Campbell, associate professor in the Leeds School of Business at the University of Colorado at Boulder. “You’re really getting to experience the brand in its best light — that maximizes the chance that you’re going to say, ‘Yeah, this is the product for me. This works for me.’”

Personalized attention is exactly what the party host, 31-year-old Whitney Cather, wanted, because she knows that finding the right jeans can be a nightmare. Her problem: finding a pair that fits her hips and her waist.

Gates’ problem: the same.

Chrysogelos needs a short inseam. Jodi Phelps needs a long.

“Buying jeans for a woman is almost as hard as buying a bathing suit,” says Maggie Garcia-Nook, manager at Gloss.

But, she says, “It’s one piece you must have in your closet — one good pair of jeans that you love.”

Which is where the Gloss staff members, known as bartenders, come in — listening to body gripes and suggesting styles that will vanish or vamp the proper body part from among Gloss’ impressive array of high-end denim: about 2,000 pairs representing more than 20 brands and ranging in price from $60 to $319.

“Now I know why celebrities look so good in jeans — because they spend so much money,” says Phelps, 31, taking a break from trying on a handful of jeans.