By Alexandra Jacobs and Deborah Schoeneman

July 29, 2001 | 8:00 p.m

Take your boyfriend on a shopping jaunt along Fifth Avenue,

and here are some of the things you might find him wiggling into: slim "stretch" tan slacks, 98 percent cotton and 2 percent spandex, $68 at Banana Republic on 50th Street; a port-wine pique shirt, short-sleeved and very tight, $48 at Armani Exchange on 51st; or, if he's feeling particularly sportif , black swim trunks with a three-inch rise and little mesh undies underneath, $19 at H&M on 51st. "Nobody wants to wear anything big. That baggy phase is over ," said Anna Corbi, a sales associate at Armani Exchange. Her male customers, she said, will "purposely buy a shirt a size smaller, just so it's tight. I'll tell people, 'That looks perfect on you!' And they'll say, 'It's not tight enough. '" In the 1980's, men hunkered down under shoulder pads and boxy pinstripes; in the 90's, they swathed themselves in layers of Armani, baggy chinos and flapping flannel shirts. But the new-millennium man is not quite so modest: His collarbone emerges from an abbreviated V-neck sweater, his midriff asserts itself under a little T-shirt shot through with Lycra, and his ankles peek out unabashedly from beneath clamdigger pants. Men's clothes are getting tighter, and it's making some people uncomfortable. New York University communications technology student John Lichtenstein, 27, felt betrayed after a recent excursion to one of his old standbys: "Banana Republic used to be kind of casual stuff; now it seems like it's geared toward gay men," he said, snacking on brie and crackers at a Quiogue mansion with some of his heterosexual chums recently. "I liked the shirts, but they were ridiculously tight. All the larges felt like smalls. And I'm not fat!" "We definitely have a lot of fitted T's," said Trisha Nozier, a sales associate at Banana Republic. "It would be for that sexy look … to show off the muscle or their figure. Stretch cotton with Lycra-you want it, we got it." While Mr. Lichtenstein might not want it, plenty of other fellows-straight, gay and undecided-emphatically do. Shawn Kolodny, 29, owner of the Upper West Side nightclubs Cream and Venue, recently dropped $400 on tight pink-and-blue plaid pants at Paul Smith. "They look really good on," he said. "I like a lot of the stretchy stuff. It moves around better and makes my trips to the gym seem worthwhile." John von Sothen, 31, who is a writer working as a cater-waiter for Restaurant Associates, got into tight clothes through his French girlfriend of two years, but only recently started seeing the type of things he likes in the States. An ectomorphic 5-foot-9, he sees snug togs as the best possible recourse for the skinny guy. He just splurged on a briefly cut bathing suit at A.P.C. for $80. He mocked men who feel the need to declare their heterosexuality with suburban-dad baggy trunks. "I'm the guy who's getting sand kicked in his face at the beach," he said proudly. Mr. Von Sothen gets hit on by men, which he regards as a badge of sartorial honor. "It's kind of like justification that I'm doing anything! Gay guys get away with all the good stuff," he said. Nathan Johnson, a 25-year-old gay actor who appreciates H&M's smaller European sizing, took the next step: buying a child's-size T-shirt at a vintage-clothing store (something women have been doing since the dawn of Gap Kids). "I'm proud of my body shape, and I like to show it," he said. Michael James, a lean, angular, 20-year-old sometime construction worker who came to the city to try modeling with Earnest Management, was at the bar at Man Ray  last week, sporting a tight navy crewneck T-shirt with sleeves strategically lopped off just above the biceps, tapered American Eagle jeans and black suede Vans. "I'm from Ohio, and we're used to very baggy clothes," said Mr. James. "When I came to New York, I started seeing guys who wear clothes that fit. At home, it would never apply. They'd say, 'Oh, you're trying to show off.' At home, everyone is fat. People here are in such better shape." Later, a 23-year-old woman climbed into his lap. Mr. James left with her shortly thereafter. At Lotus, the past-its-prime nightclub in the meatpacking district, Clay Bernabeo, a 23-year-old trader, was enjoying similar success in his maroon Banana Republic stretch pants and somewhat translucent, short-sleeved button-down shirt from H&M. As he spoke, he was occasionally pawed by a tall blond woman with an exposed midriff. "She picked it," said Mr. Bernabeo of his shirt, nodding toward the woman. "She thought it looked good on me because she thought it looked tight. [But] it looks good on me because I've got a good body! People may think I'm a h-h-homosexual," he added, stuttering slightly over the word, "but it doesn't matter, because it looks good." Nearby, another trader, 25-year-old Dan Kaufman, was packed like a sausage into a ribbed, slate-colored nylon crewneck from Armani Exchange. "My girlfriend made me buy it," he said. "She liked the way it looked. She liked my body." While some men foist responsibility for their sleek, muscle-baring new outfits on their girlfriends, others stumble upon them solo. Like many Manhattan males of a certain tax bracket, 24-year-old business reporter Andrew (6-foot-3, 175 pounds), who was embarrassed to give his last name, is partial to Calvin Klein's cotton T-shirts. Recently, wanting to explore the Ricky Martin silhouette, he downsized from a large to a medium. "I tried on the large, and I felt like I was swimming in this shirt," he said. "I used to swim in shirts, and it was fine. It's not exactly like I have muscles to be showing the world, but I want it to be more fitted." Adam Rapoport, a lanky senior editor at GQ , used to reach for a large, but this summer he tried on a cream-colored button-down Daryl K shirt in a medium by accident and liked what he saw. "It's a kind of slimmer, more British style-an Oasis look," he said. "I liked the fit: more rock, more sporty. If it was loose and baggy, this shirt would look like something I bought at L.L. Bean." Glenn O'Brien, who writes the "Style Guy" column for GQ , is on top of the trend. "Armani has had a big run, but I think things have gone the other way. Men get tired of all those big, baggy trousers with all the pleats," he said from a cab on the way home from Pilates class one morning. "And now guys are wearing more structured clothes-you know, trimmer pants and just a sleeker look. With stretch fabrics, you can buy a suit that's a little thinner than one might have been 20 years ago and you're not gonna bust out the ass." It's not like men have never worn tight clothes; some still shudder recalling the 1960's, the heyday of the "ha-ha" (high-armhole, high-ass) suit; and the 70's and early 80's, when "progressive" men into glam and punk rock donned sperm-count-lowering trousers. There is a difference, however: Back then, the men were skinny; now they're beefing themselves up at the gym. Then, men were discovering their feminine side; now, they're reaffirming their masculinity, showing off their trainer-built physique. "I can only suggest it is certainly the second generation of the influence of the gym in men's life," said the writer and noted spiffy dresser Gay Talese. "Staying in shape, being fit, spending hours on machines and aerobics has manifested a male vanity or narcissism that has to be reflected in the fashion of the moment." The blame for the latest wave of tight clothes may be placed squarely on the narrow shoulders of three high-end designers: Miuccia Prada, an enthusiastic proponent of high-tech fabrics and the wan, intellectual, androgynous look; Tom Ford of Gucci (and now Yves Saint Laurent), who makes sex the centerpiece of his collections; and more recently, Hedi Slimane of Dior (who first debuted the look at Yves Saint Laurent), a mysterious Frenchman whose men's clothes are cut so narrowly that women like Bianca Jagger have been spotted buying them for themselves. Their clothes have encased the likes of Brad Pitt (who got married in a Y.S.L. tux), Mark Wahlberg and Tom Cruise, who have worn their share of shiny little suits and baby V-necks. "A lot of men in the U.S. are too broad-shouldered to really fit into that stuff," said Justin, 29, a banker and tight-clothes enthusiast who didn't want to give his last name. "Theory does a good job of being form-fitted but not too Euro." Justin has shopped at Gucci and Marc Jacobs, and recently a Barneys salesman convinced him to buy brown-and-white Miu Miu bathing trunks so small they looked like underwear. "He said it was very 1950's," said Justin. Michael Smaldone, vice president of men's design at Banana Republic, said his pants sales have gone from 60 percent pleated and 40 percent flat-front five years ago to about 80 percent flat-front now; the "Dawson," a low-rise cut, is particularly popular. "It's really all about the rise of the pant," he said. But classic, khaki-centric retailers are more ambivalent about voyaging into the land of stretch and tapering. Michael Blue, vice president of men's design at Brooks Brothers, said pleated pants are still outselling flat-fronted ones 3 to 1. "Aesthetically, a plain-fronted pant makes you look slimmer," he said. "What we've done in our pants is kind of trim them down and make them a little sexier on the waist. They still sit on your waist, but they kind of dip down in the front, and it gives you the appearance of having a little bit more modern pant. It doesn't look, you know, 'old man with the 12-inch front rise.' Basically what I did is I just kind of took out any fabric that I call 'dead' fabric-it's not adding anything to the garment, it's just there. So we've taken that out. The pant has the same expression; it just makes it cleaner ." Just as women's hemlines used to go up and down with seasonal regularity, there are signs that men may be drifting back toward bagginess. In early July, Club Monaco, which has translated the runway's slim-fitted look for the masses, introduced a "Right Fit" pant with a relaxed, wide-leg silhouette to go alongside its more contemporary "Smart Fit" pant. The reason, according to a spokesperson, was to "accommodate a broader male customer base." As for all those pec-hugging T-shirts that are being foisted upon the regular guys of the world, Mr. Blue doesn't see those going away. "If you can get [the customer] into a slimmer T-shirt to wear under his dress shirt, he'll never go back," he said. But men might be forced back into hiding by the reason they buy clothes in the first place: women. "I like guys who wear their jeans that fit," said Allison Teich, a 25-year-old digital-video editor. "But shirts that are too tight-oh, no! I think tight shirts are a good indication that a guy is vain and a little too concerned with his appearance. It's girly." - Additional reporting by Benjamin Ryan