Miami Mayan

Are we heading for a swimsuit revolution? Yesterday at South Beach, our bastion of shock and awe, I spotted a buff Hispanic man in a turquoise loincloth reclining center stage, or in this case, within plain view of Collins Avenue. His burnished bronze physique provided the ideal showcase for his stunning fashion statement, and his rippled muscles seemed to scream, “Try this, if you dare!” Honestly, he was the most gorgeous guy I’ve seen in a long time, and when it comes to handsome men, I’m an aficionado.

I consulted with Jeanne Pratt, our resident fashion designer and author of the weekly column, “Hot Couture.”

With her Chanel glasses sliding down her nose, she bemoaned, “Why do I miss all the fun? Seriously, think about it. With just one length of material and a few twists of the wrist, you’ve got the hottest pants since Jessica Simpson bent over in the ‘Dukes of Hazzard.’”

I asked Jeanne if loincloths would need an instruction manual, and could they be mass-marketed?

“Probably,” she said, “but can you picture the packaging? Not to mention the fun of application. And of course, you’d need to include instructions pour deux.”

My conundrum? How many hours will I need to spend doing butt crunches to pull this off?

Jeanne wasn’t finished with her fashion predictions. “If these things get big, they could alter the tan lines of the Miami male.” She snapped her fingers and sat up a bit straighter in my Barcelona chair. “Okay, I’ve got it. What do you think of when I say ‘loincloths’? Mayans, right? We’ll call our little gems ‘Miami Mayans.’”

I could almost see her brain throbbing tangerine orange, the signature color for spring 2011.

“We should be able to make the fall runway shows in Milan and Paris,” she said, checking dates on her Blackberry. “From there, we can get them on the shelves by next summer.”

Noting the bloom of perspiration on her upper lip, I fanned her with the latest copy of Vogue.

“You might be onto something,” I said.