Is it worth whipping hubby into fashion shape?

Note from Steve: Yes it is.

BY DEBRA PICKETT
Chicago Sun-Times

I married an Iowan, one who grew up without sisters and who held on to his bachelorhood -- and the college sweatshirts and unmatched gym socks that went with it -- well into his 30s. So I didn't ever have an idea of him being a fashion plate.

But, like a lot of women who are relatively new at the whole "wife" thing, I did have the vague idea of taking him on as a sort of aesthetic project.

When we were dating, this took of the form of periodically buying him gifts from the men's department at Nordstrom. Now that he has a clearer understanding of exactly how much those loving gestures take out of our budget, it's harder to pass them off as spontaneous outpourings of my affection.

And, anyway, my ability to offer him fashion advice is limited by the fact that I fell in love with him in spite of -- perhaps, because of -- a wardrobe that screamed "lonely intellectual." So whenever I gently point out that, um, maybe brown shoes would look better with that outfit, he sweetly reminds me that if lunky white tennis shoes were good enough to win my hand, they're good enough for any of our friends who might happen to notice what he's wearing. Then, being newlyweds, we gaze at each other lovingly, and the moment is lost.

Clearly, if some sort of style authority is to be laid down, I'm going to need reinforcements.

That's where Claire Wexler and Jamie Fohrman come in. They are personal stylists and, it must be said, they are not soft touches. They showed up at our house Monday morning, armed with a detailed questionnaire, several men's magazines and some serious fashionista attitude.

Personal shoppers are so 2004
While big department stores have long employed personal shoppers to help customers select from their merchandise, stylists -- who are not affiliated with a particular store or brand -- are a relatively new phenomenon. Until recently, they've worked mostly with Hollywood types, helping their famous clients select specific outfits for special occasions, like award ceremonies, and working with the stars to choose "everyday" clothes, accessories and even furniture to complement their carefully crafted images.

The idea of having a stylist, or essentially paying someone else to have good taste on your behalf, took a while to reach the Midwest, but it's clearly arrived now and, on Thursday's show, Oprah said she's had a stylist for about a year. Fohrman launched her "personal style consulting" firm, Substance Meets Style, this summer, and the business has taken off quickly, with dozens of clients -- they specialize in men -- paying $200 an hour to have stylists assess their wardrobes and grooming habits, take them shopping, decorate their homes and organize their offices.

Wexler says she can whip pretty much even the schlubbiest guy into shape in about 40 hours. (Available for a package price of $5,000.)

No more "Seinfeld"
When they arrived at our place, the first thing they noticed was the shoes. Black shoes with khaki pants and a pale blue button-down shirt, Fohrman declared, really don't work. He needs brown.

And, speaking of those pants, Wexler pitched in, the pleats aren't a good move. Flat fronts are the way to go.

Oh, and also, the button-down shirt, with the little polo player logo -- that's really not working, either, Fohrman continued. No button-down collars. Darker colors, multi-color stripes and subtle patterns in tones of blues and greens. Possibly purple.

Having evaluated my husband's typical work clothes, the stylists then asked what he wears on our nights out. I don't think they quite believed him when he said he wore the exact same stuff. They looked to me for confirmation, which I offered with a sheepish nod.

After spending an hour talking with us about our vision for what his wardrobe style is now (late '90s business casual) and what we'd like it to be (him: "whatever"; me: "marginally cooler than it currently is"), the stylists decided to check out the closet.

That's when they spotted his weekend wardrobe: pale Levis, college sweatshirts and white sneakers. Fohrman christened it "the Seinfeld look."

And then she pronounced it off-limits.

"You can't wear those sneakers anywhere except the gym," she said. "Those are never OK to wear out. Really, not ever."

A few days after their visit, Fohrman and Wexler sent a three-page "style itinerary," with lists and photos of items to buy and items to be "retired." The next step should be shopping for the recommended items, which, by my calculation, would run us about $1,800, not counting the stylist fees.

But he hasn't agreed to hit the stores yet, and I'm not sure I should push my luck. I'd love to reinvent him as a snappy dresser, but I'm not sure I want him buying a whole new wardrobe.

If he gets all this great new stuff, what will I buy him for Christmas? And, more important, what will happen to my clothing budget?