Unwittingly, today I wound up wearing a tie that happened to be an exact color match with my boxer shorts: Both deep purple.

That’s a first for me.

I made the observation myself, versus having someone else point it out to me. That’s both lucky and unlucky, depending on how you consider it.

That title is not a declaration of support. Rather, it’s a simple acknowledgment of what’s becoming a horrifying fait accompli: The fauxhawk, that fake mohawk of a hairstyle, appears to be here to stay.

Why do I say this? Because I see it every single day while walking the streets of New York. It seems to have become the ‘do of choice of the twenty-something professional and semi-professional male. This, despite being tagged as passe back in 2004 and, when that didn’t stick, a declaration of jihad against it the subsequent year. Improbably, in an age when fashion fads seem to expire within months, this hair expression has survived and thrived.

Today was the topper for me. I actually spied a 50-something woman sporting a blonde fauxhawk! Somehow, the look has leapt the gender divide. There’s no stopping it now.

So go ahead, boys and girls — embrace it. Just follow the steps and look like a latter-day Ed Grimley. I’m actually glad my follicle-challenged scalp won’t allow me to join in.

Seen by me today: A guy, 20ish, walking down 8th Avenue, wearing a light-blue plaid kilt.

Yes, this is the anything-goes big city, so maybe I shouldn’t be fazed by such stand-out fashion choices. My lunchtime companion certainly wasn’t — I actually had to point this sight out to her. Maybe I took special notice because it was just above 40 degrees out, which indicates he was roughing it with the bare legs.

It didn’t occur to me that Mr. Kilt might have been a celebrity, of sorts. But indeed, the former “Dell Dude” of bygone television commercial fame has been known to show up at court appearances all kilted-up. I didn’t recognize him as such, but it’s been a few years since I’ve seen those old spots.

Last week, I was showing an out-of-town friend around the streets of uptown Manhattan when we stopped at a sidewalk handbag table. (Not my idea; I typically take a long look at the sidewalk vendor wares while walking by, but have yet to actually linger over a purchase.)

The only other customers were two older women, also checking out the faux purses. They were driving a moderately hard bargain with the guy; they finally talked him down to three bags for $100, and let my friend in on that deal so that he could get a bag for his wife.

What I found a little odd: Whenever one of the women handled one of the handbags and asked questions about it, they’d refer to it as “this Prada knockoff”, “this Gucci knockoff”, etc. They would give a little extra stress on the “knockoff” part, thus not-so-subtly making a point of that fact.

I don’t think there was any question that this cardtable-full of handbags were fakes. The guy selling them certainly didn’t make any claims to the contrary, and in fact, you’d have to be the biggest of rubes to actually believe these were authentic items being sold at rock-bottom prices. It’s an accepted fact that you’re simply looking for a passable-looking imitation in this situation.

So why did these women insist on emphasizing the “knockoff” part? I’m wondering if it wasn’t an under-the-radar negotiation tactic, both with the handbag guy and with themselves. Repeating the descriptor to the seller might help in softening him up on price. Repeating it to themselves might also have helped remind them of what they were getting, and not to get too carried away.

Of course, the third possibility occurred to me: They were trying to show off that they weren’t fooled for a second that they were haggling over designer originals, and wouldn’t even concede that with a casual shorthand like “this Prada bag”. Psychological strategies at work, even on sidewalk sales.

With the Devils already gone, and the Nets short-timing it until they move to Brooklyn, the former Continental Airlines Arena is getting a new corporately-christened name. The Meadowlands facility will now be known as Izod Center.

Lest you think the arena’s now going to be festooned with pictures of crocodiles, clue yourself into the long-ago divorce of Izod and Lacoste, with the latter taking back its reptilian shirt-logo in the split.

What’s more interesting is the fashion rivals that Izod beat out:

Izod was chosen over Jay-Z’s Rocawear and Fort Lee-based Southpole in a three-way race among “clothes horses,” in part because of its parent company’s ability to tie in extensively with the $2 billion Xanadu retail and entertainment project that will surround the Izod Center…

All three bidders made pitches to a sports authority subcommittee Monday, with rap music mogul Jay-Z making part of Rocawear’s presentation himself. Each bid was thought to be $1.4 million to $2 million annually, but the board also considered each bidder’s financial viability, as well as other qualifications beyond cash.

It was basically two hip-hip/urban-wear fashion houses versus a rather fusty oldtime clothier.

I wonder if the New Jersey authority didn’t have qualms about having a state-run facility named after a brand (either Rocawear or Southpole) closely associated with African-Americans. Was there a concern that the very name would scare away white patrons, regardless of who was playing at the venue? And would that have a domino effect, in that the only viable acts that could be booked and guaranteed a good turnout would be rap concerts? I wouldn’t be surprised if that went into the thinking.

You have to hand it to Southwest Airlines. They’ve deftly defused a potentially nagging publicity problem by co-opting the situation: They’ve re-apologized to Kyla Ebbert for threatening to kick her off a flight for wearing an “inappropriate” miniskirt, and used the incident as a jumping-off point for a self-deprecating fare-decrease sale.

You have to admire the corporate adroitness. Most companies would have buried their heads in the sand and just ridden it out, hoping the negative press would go away. Southwest used it as an opportunity to make amends and reinforce its mostly customer-friendly brand.

One thing that was lost in this telling:

Ebbert’s account, and a similar one by another woman this week, led to unfavorable news coverage and Internet chatter about Southwest. Newspaper columnists and bloggers derided the airline — which in the 1970s put its stewardesses in hot pants and called itself “The love airline” — as prudish.

That “Love Airline” was actually a double-entendre by itself. It was an oblique reference to the Wright Amendment, which restricted Southwest in flights to and from its hub at Love Field in Texas. Apparently, even then the airline was making lemonade out of lemons, which hints at an especially creative corporate culture.

I’m amused by how easily influenced I can be by some random opinion. Like this one by Schad, involving the origin and ulterior motive behind the current rage in women’s accessorized eyewear:

Ladies, I’m sick of the oversized shades. Besides just looking dumb, they make every woman look alike. I’m convinced that Paris Hilton began, or at least helped establish the trend of the big, bordering on grandma-Solar Shield-sized sunglasses because her face is so busted. The more of her face that’s covered, the better she looks.

Sure enough, after reading the above blog post, I cannot take notice of this look without thinking: I wonder what facial flaws she’s concealing. So thanks for that, Schad — one more thing to obsess about regarding the opposite sex.

Actually, I thought Paris’ fellow Simple Lifer Nicole Richie was the one synonymous with the goggle-like headgear. Although I guess even she’s diversifying her retro-shades look.

I’ve got so much body hair that, really, the coverage on my back doesn’t really register with me.

That’s not to say that it doesn’t register with other people. Believe me, I’ve heard it all. Although I’ve yet to hear that I need to invest in a Mangroomer, an alternative to waxing that’s uniquely designed:

After choosing a factory, [inventor Brett Marut] exchanged countless e-mail messages and phone calls with its staff while refining the design. They focused on finding the right angle for the razor’s central joint, eventually settling on 135 degrees — anything straighter tended to make the blade catch on folds of skin, Mr. Marut said, while smaller angles produced a coarser shave.

They also cut a thin line down the center of the joint. The cut made the joint less prone to cracking when considerable pressure is applied.

Space-age aesthetics for such scrungy job. I guess it spares a guy from enlisting a loved one to do a shearing job — that tends to kill the intimacy. Not that I’d know first-hand.

I know nothing about the upcoming SOAPnet series “The Fashionista Diaries”, nor do I care to learn.

But I’ve gotta give props to the choice of tagline:

THE REVOLUTION WILL BE ACCESSORIZED

It’s meaningless marketing-speak, of course, but still catchy. Wordplay on Gil Scott-Heron’s iconic phrase/concept “The revolution will not be televised” abounds in popular culture, but I still get a kick out of seeing new variants, regardless of application.

As you can tell from the visual aid at left, wearing the amazing C-string invisible underwear is all about strategic placement. And pubic-hair management, for aesthetic purposes.

That’s only if you’re showing it off. If you plan on wearing this wired thong underneath your streetclothes, be prepared for a wild ride:

Dressed in hipster jeans I wander gingerly downstairs. Already the pants are chafing. I rapidly realise that hipsters are the wrong item of clothing for the C-string.

I take the children to the park and fall into conversation with a pleasant-seeming couple with a child a little older than Archie.

Our children smile shyly at each other and take turns on the slide. And then Oscar, my youngest, falls down and I bend over… an apparently underwear-free mother. The couple make their excuses and leave the park quickly, glancing behind them as they leave.

I’m not sure if there’s an advantage to wearing this for the pantyline-less look, versus just going commando. As for beachwear, you won’t hear any complaints out of me if it comes into my view.

I don’t suppose the funky-looking shoes pictured above are particularly unique.

But they stood out to me, when I spied them one week ago on the A Train (en route to Airtrain and the airport). Something about the black leather paired with fluorescent-green laces and trim caught my eye. They sort of matched with the dressed-down look that the South Asian girl was wearing — and then again, sort of not.

I snapped this photo with my trusty cameraphone, instead of the Nikon D80 SLR camera I’m reviewing. One of the many situations where it’s just not practical to lug out a full-sized camera, although obviously there’s a huge quality gap.

Only Tara would pick up beauty tips — excuse me: vaginal beauty tips — from Business 2.0.

So how did Betty, the muff hair dye for today’s colored-coif woman who wants to match her curtains with her drapes, work out for Tara?

My betty had turned to the color that I had wanted just after the first treatment though, but I continued on with the color too as per the directions. The instructions also recomended trying a sample patch first, but I figured, what the heck let’s go all in and luckily my gamble paid off. Overall, I found the whole process to be easy, exciting and had me giggling.

Final caveat, this could get addictive!

What else can I add, other than: Look out below!

The above image is a crop of the October 2006 cover of German Vogue. What you see are two alluring, dark-haired beauties, striking a pose.

But look closer, and you’ll see a devil in the details:

In addition to it being a provacative, seething image I really love how the O and G in Vogue make devil horns on the girl on the left.

Feel free to fire up Laibach’s cover of “Sympathy For The Devil (Who Killed The Kennedys Mix)”, with its jarring use of female vocals, to get a fuller overall effect.

Was that sly bit of graphical manipulation intentional? I’d guess yes, even if it was only on the designer (vs. editorial) level. I’m wondering how many others, in Germany and beyond, noticed.

I know you just can’t wait for Spa Week to commence, next Monday the 16th.

But make your appointment for a rubdown-micropeel-thermatherapy today, if you want to get in on the deep-deep discounts at various New York City facilities. If you wait until the official start of the big week, you’ll be out of luck, because those in the know know to book their time before the promotional rush.

Not that I can claim to be in the know. Fact is, I was unaware of Spa Week until today, when I was clued in by a woman in my office (who, yes, has already reserved her spot). While I appreciate the heads-up, I’m not sure I’m a spa kinda guy, if for no other reason than that it smacks of metrosexuality circa 2002. I guess, in compensation, I can go get a long-overdue haircut…

Non-functional, stylish sneakers have been around since the ’80s. I’m almost sure you can trace their origins to Run-DMC’s “My Adidas”.

It took another quarter-century, though, for the retail apparel biz to give this faux-activewear category a name: “Athleisure”.

This realm of designer sweats and suede sneakers is a particularly peppy segment of the fashion industry, gaining sales while more utilitarian — hell, let’s call it “real” — athletic clothing takes longer to move off the racks.

At least they chose a catchy mashup of a name. Better than the more formalized “low performance” descriptor. Face it, some chubby MC-wannabe shuffling around in his John Varvatos-signature Converses is more like a “no-performance” kinda sportswear-wearer.

I’ve been meaning to buy myself a couple of new suits. Before I do that, it looks like I’ll need to tone my physique, as the en vogue slim-silhouette cut shows off your form, whether you like it or not:

Indeed, if “clean” was the buzzword of the 1990s, leanness has now edged closer to godliness. Consider the promotion that Bloomingdale’s is having for men tonight at its New York flagship. Sponsored with Equinox and Men’s Health, which tirelessly promotes weight loss for men, the “New Suit, New You” campaign extols the joys of a slimmer silhouette both in and out of clothes.

“In some ways, it makes it harder to get a guy into a suit now,” said Kevin Harter, Bloomingdale’s men’s wear director, pointing out that a less constructed suit follows the contours of a man’s entire torso; it’s not a padded armature that rests on a man’s shoulders and closes at his waist. “Five years ago, you could just put a guy into an off-the-rack suit, and if he could button it comfortably, you were all set. Now it’s a little more involved. It’s all about the fit around the chest and the waist and shoulder.”

So now, if you’re lumpy and dumpy, you can’t even disguise it under formal three-piece wool camouflage. Thank the metrosexuals for that.

Okay, so last year, I made a big deal out of the preponderance of The North Face garments I was seeing on the streets.

Even now, I look askance at those North Face jackets, caps and whatnot. But this winter, my field of vision has detected a new clothing item that seems to have overwhelmed New York City: The distinctively-patterned Burberry muffler.

Seriously, I’m seeing this scarf wrapped around many a neck in Manhattan, from Midtown to the Village. I can’t go a day of being out-and-about without seeing at least a dozen people sporting the same tan-plaid pattern pictured on this page. It’s epidemic-like!

As with last year’s winterwear mystery, I have no explanation for it. I guess New Yorkers just like the look. I’m not aware of any official or semi-official “in” list for Burberry. Maybe it’s just an unconscious herd mentality action.

If this turns out to be an annual occurrence, I really should do a sort of urban-tagging experiment, to get the lowdown. I’m sure the resulting empirical data would be of value to some sociological and/or fashion journal.

As for me? I’ve got nothing against the British look, but since so many others are already showing it off, I’ll just zig where other zag. I’ll stick with my Italian-style burgundy-and-black striped scarf, for that touch of Euro-trashiness. (Yes, Brits do Euro-trash too, but it’s more pronounced when it’s Italian.)

Check it out: The “Stow” moccasin-style suede upper shoe, by Paul Smith.

The digitally-etched floral print on the soles is a nice, artistic touch. Of course, you won’t have much time to enjoy this little flourish, as it’ll start to fade and scuff away as soon as you take your first steps in this pair. So if you plan to show off this unusual feature, make sure to walk around on your hands!

(Hat tip to the new March 2007 Esquire Magazine for cluing me in on this via a sidebar article, which — of course — isn’t online.)

For the guy who just can’t bear to leave the bar/dorm public bathroom behind, home-based wall urinals are being offered in many a high-end look-and-feel.

It’s taking a good amount of spin — and functional design — to sell this boy’s-only pisspot:

Indeed, there is still a certain amount of squeamishness about home urinals, particularly among women, so marketers are focusing on designer style and claims about cleanliness in an effort to overcome negative associations. Kohler U.S.A., for instance, says that its “human factors group” — a team that studies, among other things, how people urinate — has found the best urinal shape for keeping the bathroom clean. A result is Kohler’s funnel-shaped Steward series, introduced last April.

“When you go at a flat wall there’s lots of splash,” said Shane Judd, product manager of Kohler’s fixtures group, whose job it is to know these kinds of things. “The conical shape eliminates splash.”

Call me old-fashioned, but when it comes to engaging in good ol’ target practice, I’ll stick to out-of-home venues.

Well, color me bummed.

Today, I wore my blue penguin-patterned tie from Banana Republic, which I just bought this weekend. I was charmed by its understated whimsy, and figured a few co-workers would be as well.

Instead, nada. No one noticed, or if they did they didn’t indicate it. I left the office thinking that my attempt at sartorial fun had fallen flat. (That, or they were sick of all things penguin thanks to that pervasively-marketed Happy Feet movie — which, despite sensorally fatiguing me as well, probably had something to do with all this.)

Then, on the subway ride home, some little boy sitting across from me (I was standing) got a gander at me, pointed, and declared to his mother, “He’s got penguins!”

Mom couldn’t figure it out at first. I offered up, “Your son’s got sharp eyes.” And then she focused her own eyes, and noticed the birds on my neckwear. She congratulated her son on spotting the minute detail that her older peepers couldn’t detect without concentration.

From that, I realized that the penguins went unnoticed at the office because they were too subtle a visual for the average adult to key in on. But kids can pick it up fine.

So I’ve decided to don this same tie on Thursday, when I’ll be having Thanksgiving with family that includes a couple of members in the 5-years-old-and-under set. They should get a kick out of it — and by gosh, someone should (besides me).

You have to hand it to The Corduroy Appreciation Club: Their fixation with the vertical, as represented by the raised portion of corduroy (known as the wale, which accounts for the adoption of a whale as their animal mascot), is complete.

How complete? As far as I can tell, they meet only on January 1st and November 11th, because those two dates — 1/11 and 11/11 — most resemble a visual form of corduroy.

From this, I assumed that November 11th, 2011 — or 11/11/11 — would call for an orgasmic explosion of corduroy-ness from this group. And it turns out I was right. That date, five years from now, will see the planned opening of The Corduroy Appreciation Club Clubhouse, featuring rooms adorned with the fuzzy fabric.

I currently don’t own a single article of corduroy. So, since the Club’s rules require members to wear at least two such articles during meetings, I guess I’m ineligible. I’ll have to live with the loss.