Last night, in a pathetic attempt to organize my side of the house, I stumbled on my roommate's tape of national lampoon's Van Wilder. Out of boredom, and admittedly, a little infatuation with Tara Reid, I popped it in. The movie was hardly worth the plastic raw products it consumed, but it jolted me on to a possibly horrifying discovery. This discovery, for me no lesser than that of Columbus, revolved around one of the staples of my casual wardrobe - Lacoste. To my dismay, the movie pictured virtually every, for a lack of a better word, tight-ass frat boy, draped in LACOSTE. Shirts, khakis, polo's and sweaters, they were all there, laughing in their reactionist, rigid embodiments of the frat culture. Franticly uprooting all my dressers and piles of clothes I went on a search of dull boring conservatism in my closet. Discovering that my drawers were quite infested with little green alligator logos I riddled my self: Do I really look like the frats in the film? By God I hope not. Nevertheless, suddenly I'm faced with a wardrobe-shaping dilemma: to continue my frequent drop-ins on the cute, slender, yet voluptuous Lacoste Saleswoman in nearby Sherway Gardens, or to re-map my wardrobe. Any advice on the Lacoste image, quality and style is appreciated. jS.