‘Take care of your loved ones--the European luxury sedan . . . and the PC desktop.’

A Valley developer who fancies himself the provider of shelter for a special class of people threw a party recently to celebrate that class and the symbols it lives by.

The party was called a “Braemie Day.”

“Braemie” is a term coined by the developer’s advertising agency to capture the young, bright and money-conscious professionals who inhabit the instant Valley communities he builds. The word derives from Braemar, the name of the builder’s company. His communities are called Braemars.

A Braemie--one who lives or might live in a Braemar--is understood to be similar to a Yuppie, the name for today’s young urban professional class, but different. A Braemie, after all, is apt to view life from the narrow perspective of Valley geography.

The term was first introduced in a series of weekly real estate ads that read something like this:

“If the ‘Old Country’ to you is Encino, if S. O .B. means South of the Boulevard, you just might be a latent Braemie.”

A picture of a “Braemie” couple, standing arm-in-arm, accompanies some of the ads.

The wife has frizzy hair, carries an imported leather briefcase and wears a Brooks Brothers suit and jogging shoes.

The husband has a sweatband under a youthful blond forelock, wears an alligator sweater, shorts and jogging shoes and carries a Haliburton brief case. That’s the kind made of aluminum that lasts forever.

At the party, there was a life-sized reproduction of the couple. And more. A free, eight-page brochure that looked far deeper into the composite couple’s way of life. It was called “The Official Braemie Handbook” and it gave some tips on how to become a Braemie:

“Drink only designer-label sparkling water after jogging through your highly desirable neighborhood,” it said. And “reject being labeled in any way, unless it’s a Ralph Lauren, Perry Ellis or Norma Kamali. Take care of your loved ones--the European luxury sedan, the high-tech food processor and the PC desktop (hard disk or floppy).”

The idea of the party was to celebrate the things that make a Braemie a Braemie. So it was held right out on the streets of the latest Braemar development, which is both south of the Boulevard and west of Encino.

Several white canvas pavilions with yellow fringe were strung up. Under each tent, a different merchant displayed products thought to be especially germane to Braemies.

Among them were desk-top computers (programmed with a test that gave each person a “Braemie Quotient”), name-brand jogging shoes, aluminum brief cases, fine art, designer-label sparkling water, espresso and, of course, two expensive European sedans. If this all seemed a little thick, it was meant only in fun, said Janet Maler, sales agent for the development.

Maler has her own definition of Braemies. She thinks many of them are young people whose parents moved to the Valley from the Westside a generation ago to find cheaper housing. And now the life they built in places like Encino and Sherman Oaks is too expensive for their children.

“They want to live near the country club,” she said. “We’re the last stop before they go out beyond.”

Maler isn’t worried that the blatant appeal to snobbery may seem offensive to some. She said it brings in the right kind of people, the ones with professional incomes. A buyer needs to make at least $80,000 a year to qualify for a Braemar home loan.

“The people that live up here are not offended by it,” she said. “Most of the people take it the way it’s meant to be. It’s cute. And maybe the kind of people who are offended by it wouldn’t buy up here anyway.”

A lot of the people who came to Braemie Day didn’t seem to really be Braemie material, though. They were older couples who came to walk through “extravagantly sensible” houses, or younger ones who could only dream.

Asked whether she had seen many Braemies, a woman who was passing out sparkling water replied, “More that would like to be than are.” But just then a legitimate Braemie couple came by. They walked down from their house on the hill. The husband wore a blue alligator shirt, shorts and jogging shoes. The wife wore a sweat suit and jogging shoes. She carried a baby.

“That’s the type that got the house they could afford, but can’t afford the gardener,” the water woman said. “They have to do their own gardening on the weekends. But they have the address. They’re S. O. B.”

The husband said he didn’t think of himself as a Braemie and didn’t like the term.

“It’s a bit snooty,” his wife said.

Another Braemie stood with a group of his neighbors beside the designer shoe stand.

He wore a pink- and white-striped alligator shirt, shorts and name-brand jogging shoes. He carried his infant daughter in his arms.

The people he was talking to didn’t think the label Braemie stands for anything real.

“They just want people with the money who can qualify for their loans,” one said. “We cheated anyway.”

“We moved here because we like the idea of a new community with a lot of people like ourselves,” another said.

“I don’t drive a BMW,” a young woman said. “I drive a Toyota.”

“She’s the only one on the block,” the man holding the child said with a smile.

By then his daughter was asleep. He went home to put her in bed, explaining on the way that his wife was away in New York on business. “Of course, we have to have a live-in,” he said.