Brit Pop Your Collar

Oasis Sept. 12, Terminal 5, 610 W 56th St. (at 11th Ave.), 212-260-4700; 7, $50.

With the release of 1995’s (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? Oasis took its place in the golden circle of Brit Rock’s pantheon. The band’s preternaturally catchy songs, delivered in Liam Gallagher’s perfect rasp and backed by hooks galore, helped it claim the crown once held by such British icons as The Who and The Rolling Stones, as well as drawing endless comparisons to The Fab Four. Thirteen years and several mediocre albums later, the self-proclaimed “biggest band in the world” has been unable to recapture its initial greatness. That’s never stopped them from trying, though, and Friday, Sept. 12 will see the band take a detour from its tour of the U.K. and Canada to play a “rare club show” at Midtown’s Terminal 5.

In addition to its universally appealing music, the group’s style and persona have made the brothers Gallagher compelling to watch over the years; expensive haircuts and dapper suits standing in stark contrast to their struggles with addiction and public feuds. As exemplars of the British tradition of Well Dressed Men Behaving Badly, I don’t think anyone in modern memory even comes close (Pete Doherty doesn’t count because he tries too hard). Oasis’ style is, of course, a throwback to the mod (short for “modernist”) subculture of Swinging Sixties London, when dandies in blazers would zip around on their scooters to all-night R&B dance clubs. Since then, the subculture has gone through many confusing permutations, from hard mod to skinhead to its current status as a few snappy pieces one incorporates into his wardrobe. In an attempt to see how a New Yorker might interpret it today, I took a trip to the East Village rock-and-roll boutique 99X.

Shop girl Adriana Medellin, who DJs as Figure it Out NYC, was nice enough to show me some of the store’s choice items by brands like Doc Marten, Fred Perry and Merc London. It’s all in “the way you layer it,” she explained; for example, the same Fred Perry polo shirt could shift its allegiance from mod to punk when worn with tight jeans and combat boots (mods wear slacks and dress shoes). Accessories like vests, suspenders and flat-topped caps complete the look. For women, Adriana explained, the idea is to look edgy yet presentable; she pointed to my pleated gray skirt and knee-high boots as an example.

In an attempt to get into the mod mind-set, I donned some black suspenders ($9) and felt instantly more chic. “Those look really good on you!” Adriana exclaimed. Taking it a bit further, I tried on a red Fred Perry blouse and found it soft, well tailored and timelessly stylish. Wearing this magical shirt, I could go to work, a bar, and (in my dreams) the Oasis concert, all without changing clothes. Then I looked at the price tag: $100. I considered it for a moment and then remembered I’m not a newly liberated London secretary with disposable income to spend on fine blouses and methamphetamines. If I bought the thing, I would not be allowed to complain about eating out of Bushwick bodegas for quite some time. I like complaining, so I left it on the rack. I did buy the suspenders, though. If I meet Liam Gallagher, I want to be ready to jump on the back of his scooter and ride away to numerous sexy adventures. A girl can dream.