Don't step out of this house if that's the clothes you're gonna wear
I'll kick you out of my home if you don't cut that hair
Your mom busted in and said, "What's that noise?"
Aw, mom you're just jealous — it's the Beastie Boys!
You gotta fight for your right to party!
~ Beastie Boys, Fight For Your Right (To Party)

Most people wouldn't consider "what brand of khakis should I wear?" to be among life's most pressing questions. Yet, there are lots of people for whom the answer to that question definitely matters. In particular, a group of executives from Reynoldsburg, Ohio think the answer is so vital, they're willing to sell you more than clothes to get you to answer the question their way.

Reynoldsburg is the home of Abercrombie & Fitch. If you're older than 14 and younger than 40, you've almost certainly seen A&F's glossy "magalog," been in one of their stores (and sacrificed some of your hearing for your trouble), and maybe, just maybe, are wearing some of their stuff right now. A&F started life as a nineteenth-century REI Novarra. A&F was the place that upper-class men went for camping equipment and tweedy clothing. Its customers have included the likes of Theodore Roosevelt and Ernest Hemmingway. That all started to change a few years ago when CEO Michael Jeffries decided to "re-position" A&F as the place where the college-age crowd gets everything they need to be stylish — albeit, a timeless kind of stylish. You know the stuff: plaids, caps, and sweaters — the kind of stuff that looks good without standing out in a crowd.

But, as my colleague Eric Metaxas, who used to work on Madison Avenue before turning back to the good side of the Force, told me, you can't just sell clothes as clothes. After all, when you come down to it, how much difference is there between one pair of khakis and another? They use pretty much the same materials and, chances are, the same exploited third-world worker sewed both of them. No, if you want to convince anyone to buy your clothing, you've got to sell something other than clothing, you've got to sell a lifestyle.

Now, this isn't limited to clothing stores. For instance, car manufacturers — "Saab, find your own road" — also do it. But you could argue that no one works as hard, nor as successfully, at doing this than the people at A&F. As Richard Baum, a senior retail analyst at Goldman, Sachs, told the Los Angeles Times, "everything they do is directed to making sure they are truly representative of the lifestyle of their core college-age customer." This pre-occupation with lifestyle has paid off handsomely for A&F. They've bid bye-bye to their parent company and operate nearly 200 stores across the U.S., with another 36 scheduled to open this year. As the Boston Globe put it, "[Abercrombie & Fitch] is absolutely the hottest place to buys clothes for high school this year." And it doesn't stop with college or even high school. Abercrombie & Fitch is planning to start an offshoot aimed at 7-to-14-year-olds named "Abercrombie."

Obviously, selling lifestyle works well. The question is: what kind of lifestyle is A&F selling? Well, to be honest, it's one that many people find attractive. It features very attractive coeds having what seems to be a very good time. There's the now famous — or should I say "infamous?" — ad featuring one guy surrounded by five women. Apparently, it's all that stands between a guy and the girls(s) of his dreams is the right pair of chinos.

For the more realistically minded, A&F offers advice on how to have the time of your life in college. Judging by the content of A&F's "magalog," Quarterly, the people in Reynoldsburg don't care if you actually learn anything in college, as long as you have their idea of a good time — wearing (or not wearing, as the case may be) their clothes, of course.

Take what A&F calls its "outta here" checklist for college life: C is for "condoms in ample supply." M is "martini shaker." Q is for "queen sized bed." P is "progressive politics." You get the idea. And, as an antidote to mindless "binge drinking," A&F provides readers with advice on "creative drinking" called "Drinking 101." It contains the recipe to several dozen drinks including such old favorites as "sex on the beach," and new favorites such as "come in with me," and "foreplay."

Speaking of "foreplay," A&F hasn't forgotten what else is on the minds of many young men. In case you are feeling romantically inadequate, or have romantically-challenged roommates, A&F has advice it calls the "Rules of Attraction." Their advice in the art of "dorm room seduction" includes such insights as "it's okay to start on the sofa, but don't stay there," "invest in a good, plush rug. The floor can be fun," and my favorite "negotiate a special group rate at a local motel, which your entire quad can take advantage of."

It would be dishonest to deny that lots of people, especially guys, find the lifestyle portrayed in Quarterly attractive. A&F is telling you that you don't have to fight for your right to party — it's part of the A&F lifestyle. But, at the risk of seeming judgmental, there are a couple of questions that need to be asked. Is Abercrombie & Fitch really doing you a favor by dispensing this advice in the art of Beastie-boy living? Let's start with "Drinking 101." Leave aside the fact that, like it or not, the legal drinking age is 21. Binge drinking and alcohol poisoning is a growing problem on American college campuses. In the past few years, numerous students have actually died after their binges. And, it doesn't matter whether what you are drinking is the cheapest swill or Skyy Vodka, too much alcohol will hurt you.

That's why Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD) took A&F to task. They know that it doesn't matter whose clothes you're wearing, if you get behind the wheel after sampling some of the recipes or using them in a drinking game, you're asking for trouble. It's an easy way to screw up or even end your life.

Even the "Rules of Attraction" carry a potential cost. Yeah, that conquest may leave you feeling pretty good at the time — at least if you're the guy — but, don't kid yourself, the kind of promiscuity A&F is using to sell khakis can't be sustained without an emotional toll. It teaches you nothing about the real basis for lasting relationships. It doesn't even teach you how to relate to another person. In fact, it denies that there's even another person in the room with you — just a fulfiller of your desires. I hate to sound like Gloria Steinem, but so much of the content in Quarterly objectifies women. The purpose of young women in the A&F world is to fulfill the desires of young men.

And, guys, whether you realize it or not, relating to women as equals will be important to you. Perhaps, sooner than you think. In its February issue, American Demographic magazine documented what it called a "neotraditional" trend among 18- to 24-year-olds. Among the findings was this interesting tidbit: This age group may be more likely to marry at a younger age. Something to think about.

Something else worth thinking about is whether A&F takes you seriously. Do they believe you're an intelligent person capable of making decisions on the basis of what's best for you, or simply a drunken rutting animal, led around by his desires? It's the question I ask myself every time someone tries to sell me something by presenting a lifestyle instead of the product. For instance, when Saab tried to sell me on imitating Jack Kerouac — a tempting proposition, to be sure — instead of on the quality of their cars, I thought this car is good enough not to need this condescension.

And that's what is, condescension. When they appeal to your basest desires, they are following in the footsteps of P.T. Barnum when he said that "no one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American public." They're betting that you won't notice what little esteem they hold you in, or their belief that you can sell an American guy anything, as long there are booze and breasts nearby. The question is: are they right?

Judging by their phenomenal success, the answer would appear to be "yes." But, I've met a lot of people who make me want to scream "no!" While they know how to have a good time — an indispensable criterion for hanging out with your scribe — they don't go through life thinking that having a good time is all there is to life. They respect themselves, and they respect others — another indispensable criterion. And they know this respect is the basis for the only lifestyle that's really worth celebrating — no matter whose khakis you're wearing.