Last month an e-memo was circulated to each and every employee at the investment bank for which I work announcing a new "casual dress policy" effective immediately.

The unexpected news hit desktops officewide with the shock and drama of a revolutionary political event. Cubicles and corner offices alike buzzed with excitement. Weighty questions which dug into the very fabric of our 150-year-old institution whizzed through the e-mail system and bounded from floor to floor.

The corporate hierarchy was challenged: "Does this apply to management also or just the regular employees?" Business strategies were revisited: "How do you think our competitors will respond to this change?" Budgets were recalculated: "Will we need to offer new clothing allowances?" And, of course, the all consuming corporate question, "How will this improve shareholder value?"

Ashamed as I am to say it, my questions in response to this Emancipation Proclamation were less focused on shareholder value and far more selfish in substance: "What the heck am I going to do with all those monkey suits I just bought? How much money am I going to have to fork over to the Gap for khaki pants?" And most importantly, "Do they really expect me to match my shirt, belt, slacks, shoes and socks that early in the morning? Oy!!"

Faced with this work/life garment predicament, I decided to catalog my development over the course of a month to see if in fact clothes do make the man, and more importantly, do they make that man more productive? Please find the following observations which I have gleaned since the everyday is casual-day resolution was put into effect:

1. I cut my out-of-the-shower to out-the-door time by six minutes. I still cannot tell if it's due to the elimination of the dreaded necktie, or due to the fact that I don't need to waste time trying to discern between my black and navy socks at 6 a.m. (Management was quick to inform me that business casual still means you have to actually wear socks.)

2. My new uniform is khaki pants and a blue button-down shirt. Therefore, I save another minute in the morning since I don't have to hang up my suit jacket in the closet around the corner.

3. That extra seven minutes of neck-tying and coat-hanging time really gives me a jump on the Jumble.

4. Oddly enough, on a day when I wore a suit to work for a client meeting, my colleagues were skeptical. At least three times I am pulled aside and asked where I am interviewing and what they are paying.

5. None of the guys in the office has a clue what the whole business casual conversion means for the female employees.

6. Everybody's new office uniform is khaki pants and a blue button-down shirt. I heard a veteran exec grumble in the elevator that "our bank is beginning to look like a Blockbuster Video outlet."

As you can see, none of these observations really offered me a base for a solid conclusion as to the true merits in this swing of the fashion pendulum. The conformity of the blue suit and banker tie has been replaced by the conformity of Blockbuster chic. Production has not necessarily been increased, yet the employees are happier and, therefore, less likely to leave the firm. Thus, I would like to offer the ultimate solution to this problem to guarantee maximum comfort for the Internet age, as well as reassure old-timers that traditional attire will not be totally retired: "Business Weekends."

In order to balance out a five day workweek of casual dress, all employees should be required to don their wingtips and Brooks Brothers specials to the beach, the backyard barbecue, the golf course, and any other weekend event. Ties must be worn to tennis matches and pick-up basketball games alike. Vests are encouraged but optional for rock festivals and sunbathing. It is my estimation that employees will only appreciate the benefits of a casual week if they are exposed to a business weekend.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get my tuxedo from the dry cleaners. I have a squash game Sunday morning against my boss at his club. If I wear these khakis on the court, he might think I'm interviewing elsewhere.