Who cares about fashion? Men do.

I couldn't give a damn about fashion. Most guys on campus would say the same. Bruce Oldfield, one of the preeminent British fashion designers of the 1950s, once said, "When someone says that lime green is the new black for this season, you just want to tell them to get a life." But the fact that I can quote Oldfield shows that there's at least a certain lack of truth to what I just said. I'd be willing to wager that beneath their seemingly apathetic façades, most Princeton men also harbor a similar, subtle yet real concern for the way our Ivy League atmosphere expects us to dress.

So, at the risk of exposing myself to social critiques from one of the many sarcastic and wonderfully collegiate publications on campus and prompting most of my friends to question my sexual orientation, let's do something altogether unheard of, uncalled for and apparently uncouth among young gents. Let's talk about what you, Johnny Princeton, should wear — or at least what Princetonia expects you to wear when you show up at the Nassau Club to eat with mom and pop and their friends Shippy and Coco visiting from East Hampton.

At the heart of Princetonians' style is a sense of timelessness. No university student body better expresses Oldfield's belief that fashion is simply "a gentle progression of revisited ideas." Navy blazers, top siders, playful plaids and sinful stripes worn in garishly glamorous fashion? They'll outlive us all. The men of Princeton have used their herringbones and tweeds to prove, in the words of Yves Saint Laurent, that while "fashion fades, style is eternal." At least, preppy style.

While the core of Princetonian style has been constant, we still take cues from the fashion world, if only to maintain our social savoir faire as we jump from the star shine of season to season. So let us focus for a moment and examine the unique aspects of spring 2005.

The setting: a lazy spring day at one of Princeton's many idyllically lazy spring day places, Alexander Beach, the gardens at Prospect or the terrace at the Savoy Club. Everyone is out enjoying the sun, wearing their rainbows, their ribbon belts, their madras and seersucker. Despite public disdain, polos — more beloved in prep couture than Sinatra's spats — will remain the staple shirt; collars will continue to be popped. This is obvious.

But what of those more temporal traits: color and cut, beloved brand names? Shades of vibrant green are already emerging as the color of the season, followed closely by tangy splashes of juicy orange. Pair rich forest greens with an insolent pink and you've got a color combination both established and energetic enough to adorn the Beverly Hills Hotel. Along with pink, baby blue and yellow will remain the two southern gents of the male fashion world — respected, distinguished, sitting on that sun porch and refusing to change with the times. So go ahead and invest in these shades; they'll make a man of you.

Like most girls at Princeton, cuts will continue to grow slimmer, reflecting more and more a move to incorporate athleticism and youth into the traditional "old man" boxiness that Ralph Lauren and other more established designers have only recently started to give up. Coupled with the continued use of vivid vertical stripes, svelte is the only way to be seen.

As for the house, the higher-end retail names continue to dominate the market of everyday casual wear. Lacoste is undoubtedly the place to search for the best of the season's bright and breezy hues for your classic mesh polo. Despite the dominance of the almost legendary RL shirt in this category, polos from Lacoste are generally agreed to be of higher quality, specially dyed to guard against fading and with a much sportier cut. For bermudas and pants, belts and sweaters, Polo still seems to have a stranglehold on the market, mixing up this season's shorts with broader and bolder stripes in airy seersuckers and linens. Don't be afraid to grab a pair or two of pants in these fabrics as well, but steer clear of the obnoxious little creature prints, as they are pants, not a safari issue of National Geographic.

Ditch those rubber flip-flops you grabbed at Beach Boutique on the Atlantic City boardwalk and pick up some rainbows. They'll last a lifetime and don't have fish bones or palm trees or something equally bizarre screen-printed onto them. And finally, head to the boutiques for your more formal apparel. Gucci has rolled out several stunning spring suits: especially noteworthy, a white cotton-and-silk mustique pinstripe. Take a step down to Brooks Brothers for a staple, lightweight navy blazer to pair with jeans, shorts, whatever, as well as more colorful and playful sports coats in madras, linen and seersucker. And you might want to pick up a khaki suit, the multipurpose combo of the season and useful for anything from early evening functions to Sunday brunch and — with sandals — even an afternoon on the beach.

The message is to focus on quality. Despite the cynics who claim that wearing brand names is simply an ostentatious means of asserting one's place on the social ladder, the truth of the matter is that, when it comes to high-end fashion, you get exactly what you pay for. That little alligator stitched ever so carefully onto your flamingo pink mesh shirt is a guarantee that 100 times through the acme industrial wash-and-dry will leave it as luxuriously soft as ever. Bottom line: brand name quality isn't a myth; it's a must.

As warmer weather, longer afternoons and lazier breezes find their way north, it is certain that the fine fellows of this university will have an exceptional season in which to show off their timeless taste. It will doubtless continue to establish Princeton as one of the most stylish collections of dashing and debonair young gentlemen to be found anywhere.