(Los Angeles Times) By Bill Higgins, SPECIAL TO THE TIMES
Thursday, November 28, 1996
Home Edition
Life & Style, Page 2

His job tells Bill Maher how to dress.

He�s the authority figure on Comedy Central�s �Politically Incorrect.� The policeman, maybe even the therapist, maintaining order among the eclectic spectrum of opinionated humanity who serve as guests. The solid, witty center keeping--depending on how you look at it--the ducks in a row, the balls in the air, or the nuts from each other�s throats.

�If you�re going to be a referee,� he says, �then you really should have some kind of uniform.�

Maher quotes Gene Kelly�s line about how the dance follows the music to explain the sleek, usually three-button, suits he chooses with stylist Sheryl Olivia. In early shows, he tried a knit shirt with a sport coat, but that didn�t feel quite right when he had someone like the secretary of labor as a guest. Big shots are more at ease with formality. Plus, he realized that political comedy worked better with a suit and tie.

�The more formal you are in appearance, the more liberties you can take with being a wise guy,� Maher says. �To be a wise guy in a polo shirt doesn�t work well as being a wise guy in an Armani suit.�

Besides Armani, his uniforms come mostly from Paul Smith and Donna Karan. He likes Hugo Boss, but sometimes finds it too boxy. He avoids double-breasted; he looks good in it standing up, but there�s �a little too much stuff� when he�s sitting down, which is for most of the show.

Olivia says Maher �has his own distinct sense of style. He sometimes doesn�t realize how hip he is. He�ll come into the office wearing a vintage shirt he�s had since the 70�s and it looks totally current.�

And while Maher might wear a sweater or something more casual if he�s doing an HBO special, he�s selective about wearing anything with too much color. As an example he mentions a kelly green, double-breasted corduroy suit he bought at Maxfield a decade ago that he wouldn�t wear now.

�I know the idea of kelly green corduroy sounds awful,� he says, �and it would be completely in place on Mick Jagger or Ron Wood, but I find I can wear it only on St. Patrick�s Day.�

But no matter what suit he wears on the show, it has to be checked with bulky microphone packs in each inside pocket. Maher still cringes when he recalls a show where he went on without having the electronic gear fashion-tested beforehand. Only a man who cares about his appearance would use the words �embarrassingly awful,� and �beyond bad, clown-y,� to describe the way the suit hung. �All the work I do to get my fabulous body in shape went completely down the drain,� he says, rolling his eyes.

However much he likes the clothes sold at Barneys New York, something about the store�s astronomical prices makes him angry. It�s triggered by a mix of his father being �the last bleeding-heart liberal Democrat�; shirts selling for the �price of someone else�s rent�; and �a mankind-and-the-gap thing that seems so wrong.�

Maher says he would not object �if jackbooted police came in and just confiscated everything and brought poor families to live in the store.�

Olivia cringes. �I know he hates Barneys, but Barneys loves him,� she says.

For the record, Maher does not own any jackboots.

Copyright, The Times Mirror Company; Los Angeles Times, 1996.