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COPYRIGHT 2005 All rights reserved. Reproduced by permission of The Condé Nast Publications Inc.
Several years ago, Miles Rohan was out of work and feeling lonely. He thought it might be nice to belong to a social club, like the Elks or the Shriners, and, in the absence of any invitations, decided to start his own. He noticed that he'd accumulated a good amount of corduroy clothing in his twenty-some years, figured that that ought to count for something, and made a theme of it: a corduroy club. He established a Web site, printed up membership cards, and hit the streets to recruit--in bars, on subway platforms, wherever he saw people wearing corduroy. "It was a complete failure," he said the other day. "Someone"--a particularly...
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