DOES YELLOW MAKE THE MAN?

Byline: Lewis Taylor The Register-Guard

Seems like yellow is everywhere these days.

New York fashionistas have dubbed it one of the new colors to watch for, cyclist Lance Armstrong wore the yellow leader's jersey (the maillot jaune) throughout most of the Tour de France this summer and the nation's terror alert level is currently at ... you guessed it, yellow.

Oh yeah, and then there's the University of Oregon football team, which has apparently been listening to Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger and all the other designers who are predicting a yellow invasion come spring. Not only has the team wheeled out a new "lightning" yellow uniform that practically requires mylar astronomy glasses to view safely, but the Ducks are also encouraging students and fans to wear yellow, offering $7 Lightning Strikes T-shirts and undertaking a marketing campaign to convince people that yellow does not equal "puke," as some sports commentators have suggested.

As someone who owns exactly one item of yellow clothing, a T-shirt that I use for painting, I was skeptical about the fashion merits of yellow, especially "lightning" yellow. I've always felt that yellow has a tendency to make people look a little ... jaundiced. But, I'd also like to support the home team. So I set off in search of some yellow Duck apparel that wouldn't make me look like a Day-Glo casualty.

Having spoken to a professional color consultant from Springfield, my editor suggested I head to the mall to have my colors analyzed. I made a beeline for the cosmetics counter at the Bon Marche, where I met Suzy and Wendy, two beauty advisors who didn't do colors but did have plenty to say about the dangers of wearing yellow. Both strongly advised against mixing yellow with bright colors like red and pink, and said that folks with tan complexions would fare much better than paler Duck fans.

"It's a cool color for a Leo," Wendy said.

Not being pale (or a Leo), I asked Wendy to hit me with her best shot and before I knew it I was in a swivel chair being made up like Fox TV commentator Bill O'Reilly. She applied a thin dusting of Bronze Goddess, a light bronzer by Estee Lauder that sold for $28.50, and sent me on my "sun-kissed" way.

Spending any significant amount of time in the cosmetics department can be a trying time for any man, and so, to cleanse myself, I went across the street to the Men's Wearhouse for some manly fashion advice on wearing yellow.

Two guys in suspenders fielded my questions patiently, although they seemed a bit puzzled by what I was after. I asked them for ways to class-up a "lightning" yellow Duck football jersey (suspenders perhaps?) but all they could offer was a pair of casual cotton pants for $27.99 or slightly dressier slacks for $35.

Seeing little difference between the slacks at the men's store and the dark pants I was wearing, I went to the University of Oregon Book Store to make my purchase. Before going in, I conducted an informal survey to find out what kind of "lightning" gear the students were wearing.

Although I didn't see a single piece of yellow apparel on the street, I learned that most students have a grudging respect for the new color. Despite one woman's insistence that the only thing she would buy would be a lightning coffee cup, the answer to the question of what students were wearing quickly presented itself to me. On campus, the coolest thing going (if you can call yellow clothing cool) and contrary to my survey's results, is indeed a "lightning" yellow Duck T-shirt.

"It's really vibrant," said A.J. Jones, a sophomore and the proud owner of a Lightning Strikes shirt. "I think it really shows school spirit."

Once inside the bookstore, I enlisted the help of Sarah, a saleswoman with a deep knowledge of all things "lightning" yellow. She showed me "lightning" yellow footballs that sold for $10, "lightning" yellow cycling jerseys that went for $84, and she pointed out that the orangey "lightning" yellow T-shirts weren't really the same "lightning" yellow as the lemony "lightning" yellow you see on the Ducks uniforms.

My head a swirl of yellow, I made Sarah serve as my fashion consultant, standing outside the dressing room while I tried on different pseudo "lightning" yellow tees, one after the other.

I, or should I say we, settled on a "distressed" almost "lightning" yellow T-shirt with Oregon Football printed in green letters across the front.

I was pleasantly surprised by the way I felt wearing yellow. Every time I looked down at my shoes I was shocked by the blast of color that met my eyes. People seemed to be looking at me differently, probably because I was the only one on the street wearing such an electric color, and I felt a bit like the gold bug character from the Richard Scarrey children's books.

Something was missing from my sort-of "lightning" yellow Duck ensemble, and I wasn't sure what it was. In search of some hipness, I headed to Deluxe, a new clothing store in an old pie shop on Willamette. I had heard about the place, which specializes in vintage and used clothing and apparel by local designers. Owner Dagua Webb gave me her thoughts on yellow clothing, and did her best to remedy my problem.

"Yellow's not that flattering on Caucasians," Webb said, leveling with me.

She suggested I add something quirky and fun, a button-down "old man shirt" perhaps, to loosen up the ensemble, and even sent me to the dressing room with some hipster alternatives to the officially licensed Duck apparel I was wearing. She put me in a $12, 100 percent polyester, yellow leisure shirt with rainbow stitching. And I tried on a similarly priced mustard yellow shirt, while she modeled one of her own $10 yellow Deluxe tank tops, which would have been perfect, except that it had a deer instead of a duck on the front.

Ultimately, I walked away empty-handed from Deluxe, but only because I couldn't find anything approaching "lightning," let alone faux "lightning." And besides, wearing a pale yellow button-down shirt to support the team seemed kind of like dressing up like yourself for Halloween.

Maybe there's no getting around the fact that yellow is, how shall we say, a "challenging" color to wear. Maybe we should do what one woman at the bookstore suggested and just all grin and wear it.

"If everyone's wearing yellow," she suggested. "No one will realize how stupid we all look."

CAPTION(S):

The sky may be blue but the forecast is calling for lightning, "lightning" yellow, the new color used by the University of Oregon. Broc Beach, 7, of Cottage Grove, tries on yellow Duck clothing. INSIDE Experiment: The two-headed quarterback works out well / B1 Quinn Dorsey: Duck end's appeal to play Saturday is rejected / B1