THE NEXT WAVE

Preppies bray at Manhattan's Surf Club

“WE sell more bottles of champagne per capita than any other bar in New York,” blares Angus Beavers, russet-haired co-owner of New York’s hottest new Wasp nest, the Surf Club. Word has spread fast—preppies. Yuppies, Yumpies, and Yuppies (but not Yuppies) are stampeding to the portals of the Upper East Side nightclub, where they can find a cake-party atmosphere and Ivy League chic. Door policy prohibits “any guys who look as if they are coming in just to chase girls,” and anyone whose sartorial tastes are “slovenly or lack imagination.” Consequently, the place has developed a uniform unto itself. Men swagger in suits from Brooks Brothers and Paul Stuart, girls mince in taffeta and piles of costume jewelry, and “have just discovered leather miniskirts,” according to one alert witness. The former carpentry shop now boasts gazebo, parasols, surfboards, and fake swordfish. “We asked ourselves what all these people would have in common, and the answer was a home in the Hamptons, so we thought this would remind them of summer,” explains Angus, twenty-four (Penn), whose partners, brother Toby, thirty (Syracuse), and John Muller, thirty-two (N.Y.U.), share in the good clean-shaven fun. “We are not narrow-minded preps,” insists Angus. “These guys do not have to follow each other’s standards or dress in argyle sweaters. They work at Dillon, Read and Morgan Stanley, they party until four AM., and they can still make money. I don’t know how they do it. I sleep al 1 day."

Who goes: Jodie Foster, Andy Warhol, Phoebe Cates, Tim Hutton, Mick Jagger, Skip, Chip, and Muffy.

Jessica Berens