Mansel does not lavish much attention on recent years, but it's possible to draw out the thread of his argument. Over the last decade, as companies have updated their management philosophies—tradition and rank are out, flattened hierarchies and innovation are in —the business suit, with its connotations of status and tradition, has given way in many offices to golf shirts, turtlenecks, and khaki pants.

But not in Washington. Inside the federal city's unique ecosystem of power and patronage, old trends linger, and new ones arise. Since the advent of C-SPAN and color newspapers, lady senators and cabinet officials have strolled to press conferences in brighter hues—dress suits of yellow, green, peach, and red—which might look curious inside a Chicago law firm, but stand out exquisitely well in a crowd on television. Condi Rice, who favored black and navy in her academy days, now regularly dons yellow and crimson in view of news cameras.

On the sidewalks along Pennsylvania Avenue, business suits are becoming, if anything, more common and more pricey—in keeping with the vaunted formality and discipline of George Bush's White House, as well as the growing legion of K Street lobbyists now shuffling between downtown and Capitol Hill (in the last five years, the city's lobbying industry has doubled in size).

But like the fashions of all empires, this parade will someday pass. Styles sewn with politics tend to sparkle and fade with the ideologies they embody. For example, Paul Bremer, as administrator of the Coalition Provisional Authority, sallied from Baghdad board rooms to military briefings in fine suits paired with combat boots. When visiting Bremer in Iraq, Rumsfeld dressed to match his host. The ensemble did perfectly showcase the Pentagon's strategy for occupation -- minimal troop presence, maximal use of private contractors -- but in recent months, stability in Iraq has proved elusive, Bremer has gone home, and American officials no longer aim to be seen ambling around Baghdad in pinstripes.