Living: A Scye Is Just a Scye

It may be that most of the clothes men wear around the Western regions of the planet are derived from sport or warfare. If that is so--and G. Bruce Boyer, a "private and corporate image consultant," believes it is--then there are rules to be obeyed. Mainstream men's fashion is the business of defining those rules, marketing them and playing subtle little games with them. In the boardroom or the law office, such rules are not flouted, never mind broken. They are nudged gently. The fold of a handkerchief in the breast pocket of a suit jacket, the width of a stripe on a shirt, a print on a pair of bright suspenders: these are the permissible talismans of individuality. Pitiful.

How about a show of hands? Is there any man, freed from the constraints of social and business dress, who would willingly put on a tie? And what about suit jackets, or even blazers? Is there anyone, given the choice and enough pocket space elsewhere, who would not surrender the weight of a worsted for the ease of a cardigan sweater? Where are those hands?

Well, to be honest, there are a few, and some of them have been busy writing books on the subject of male plumage. Boyer has the best one, called, simply, Elegance (Norton; 279 pages; $18.95). But there are also Alan Flusser's Clothes and the Man (Villard Books; 210 pages; $29.95), a volume so smoothly designed it should come with its own hanger; Personal Style by James Wagenvoord (Holt, Rinehart & Winston; 222 pages; $16.95), which means to clue in all interested fellas not only about fashion but about many allied matters, from polishing glasses for a formal meal to packing a suitcase for a quick trip; and Man at His Best by the editors of Esquire magazine (Addison-Wesley; 262 pages; $24.95), which features fashion layouts and hot styling tips inspired by Esquire's own glossy pages. This fastidious little boomlet in male-fashion authority has been encouraged by Esquire and GQ, which cuts made-to-order features for the yupscale market. The inspiration could in part be a White House incumbent, whose folksy nattiness is a considerable part of his charm, but men's clothing is a thriving business. Anyone who is skeptical about this should consult the Ralph Lauren or Giorgio Armani corporate balance sheets or visit the men's floor of any large department store on a Saturday afternoon.

"Inasmuch as clothing is still the most obvious sign of one's identity," writes Boyer, "a man should dress in accordance with his profession and standing in the community." Translation: don't fool around, and dress for what is expected of you. This combination of business strategy and social stratification has been the guiding principle of men's fashion throughout this century and has resulted in the sort of conformist panache that is essentially militarist. Women wear clothes, but men have uniforms. Suits for business, tuxes for dress, sport coats and English hunting jackets for weekends.