Manning Up in the Heat Robert Wright for The New York Times "I hate the heat," said Thom Browne. Unlike showy thunderstorms that grab you by the lapels and shout "Wear your galoshes!" heat waves are like wolves in wool clothing, causing hellish discomfort in the disguise of a sunny summer day. Some of us are fooled: we put on a brave face, our usual clothes, and go to work, where we arrive in a damp, disheveled heap. But gaming a heat wave is no walk in the park. The usual codes of summer style go right out the window (if you're daft enough to have left it open). At a certain point (say, 90 degrees), a new set of objectives takes over. Questions like "What would look sexy?" or "What would look proper?" are brushed aside, leaving one desperate quest: how to get through the next 12 hours with the least amount of suffering. In other words, how to bear it all without baring it all. Most guys have their tricks and tactics. Some say socks; some say nix. Some swear by the virtue of an undershirt for keeping a dress shirt relatively dry; others contend that an extra layer just creates more heat and discomfort, not to mention a moisture trap that never dries. Fashion designers are better known for their efforts to make their customers feel figuratively cool instead of literally so, but rumor has it that they are people, too. So it seemed reasonable to think that men's wear designers would have a few extra tips up their imported sleeves - and indeed they do. As is the case with other guys, they vary wildly in their approach. For instance, Robert Geller, known for a sort of slouchy aesthetic, likes to start with clothes that look rumply and wrinkled by design, pre-empting the dishabille that heat will inflict. The up-and-coming designer Tim Coppens, who worked at Adidas and is an advocate of high-tech fabrics in his own line, prefers clothes made of fabrics designed for the playing field, which wick moisture away and stand up to heat, sweat and even a grass stain or two. Being affected by the heat more than most (I suspect my constitution is best suited to summer somewhere around the Arctic Circle), I have developed a few tips of my own. I'm never without a bandanna in my back pocket for mopping my forehead, and often have another one tied around my neck, which lends a jaunty "70s touch while soaking up sweat that would otherwise soak my shirt. I found great-fitting, paper-thin cotton pants at Uniqlo ($40) and bought two pairs in each of four different colors, so I can treat them like T-shirts instead of dress trousers. I wear good shoes that slip on - black Alden loafers - so I can kick them off for frequent breathers. Instead of heavy leather belts, I use the colorful elastic ones worn by baseball players, which look good, never feel hot and binding and, best of all, are $5 a pop. I may still look like a wreck, but a wreck who might possibly, briefly, be enjoying his day in the sun. "I hate the heat," said Thom Browne with a terse vitriol rare for the soft-spoken designer. You might think Mr. Browne, who last month won his second award from the Council of Fashion Designers of America for his unswerving aesthetic that mixes conservative and radical elements, might let down his guard - or at least his necktie. You know, make some exceptions to his everyday outfit of an echt-traditional suit and tie, trading in the suit for, like, a T-shirt and jams or something? The idea amused him. But he makes only one concession to summer dressing, and that he makes as soon as the mercury hits 80. "The uniform doesn't change," Mr. Browne said firmly, giving credence to the idea that cool is a demeanor as much as it is a temperature. He starts as he always does, with a white cotton tank top and boxer shorts. Then, a white cotton oxford-cloth dress shirt, a black wool tie and a wool suit jacket made of dark gray lightweight super 120s wool. And, in the same fabric, just-above-the-knee-length shorts. "Cotton shorts are just as hot," he said, adding that, unlike cotton, wool is relatively moisture-proof and keeps its crisp look throughout a hot summer day. Especially if you sweat. He has the same attitude about his customary black wingtips. So what if they're heavy? "I have no interest in changing my footwear," he said. As for his largely unseen white cotton athletic socks, he wears those for the better part of the year - or until the weather turns freezing, when he trades them for knee-highs. The shorts and knee-highs do not go together. "I love the idea of it," he said, "but it's a little much for me." In the winter, you can add layers. In summer, you can only subtract so much. My kind are not meant for the heat," said Todd Snyder.