Glad Rags : It’s old, it has holes--but he loves it. At the heart of any man’s wardrobe is the clothing equivalent of comfort food.

Behind every stylish man is an item of clothing that’s seen better days, something so worn and tattered it’s probably best left buried down deep in a drawer.

Guys, you know what this is about. It’s about those old clothes you can’t bear to give up, no matter how worn, torn, shredded and pathetic they’ve become. You may not even wear them anymore. But they’re part of your life, like the jacket (now two sizes too small) that brings back those high school football glory days, or the schlumpy, stained sweats that have become an extension of your body.

Sure, most people identify you with a double-breasted Armani suit or the hip shirts you drop hundreds on at Traffic, but the real you is a college-era T-shirt with the heft of single-ply tissue.

And because that shirt offers a link--albeit a tenuous one--to your past, you will defend it against insults and rescue it from the trash can should your significant other attempt to throw it out.

Women might hold onto a lipstick until it fossilizes, but they almost never parade about in a 15-year-old, stretched-out cheerleading outfit, wailing, “But it’s comfortable !” Don’t worry, though, some of the city’s best-dressed men have relics in their closets, too. Some even still wear them.

Brad Johnson, Restaurateur

Strolling around his happening, celebrity-studded restaurant Georgia, 37-year-old Brad Johnson is the picture of classic, casual chic in Banana Republic khakis, a button-down shirt and loafers--sometimes Gucci. When he dresses up, it’s Armani.

But the restaurateur also counts among his treasures a pair of overalls purchased 12 years ago. He remembers the place (Martha’s Vineyard) and the store (Take It Easy, Baby) and the attraction (“They just looked like fun”).

But hundreds of wearings and washings have taken their toll. Says Johnson: “It’s like having air conditioning down in very convenient places.

“It’s the most comfortable article of clothing that I have,” he explains. “I strap them on and just go. I wear them around the beach on the weekend. I feel like a farmer when I wear them--that’s my fantasy, to be a farmer one day.”

They’ve even earned special laundering privileges: Johnson washes them separately by hand, then hangs them up to dry. They also have a reserved space in the drawer.

Some well-meaning friends have offered to sew up the rips over the years, but Johnson has politely declined.

“I feel like they’ve worn themselves that way naturally. I don’t let anybody tamper with those overalls.”

Josh Schweitzer, Architect

There’s no mistaking a Josh Schweitzer-designed building; the Los Angeles-based architect, 42, is known for stand-out shapes and bold configurations, seen in such restaurants as Campanile, Border Grill and the now-defunct City.

He’s also known for a cotton cardigan he bought 15 years ago that he refuses to give up.

“It’s comfortable!” he says, defending the garment he describes as “a sort of dark, institutional green. [Comfort] could be the only reason [I’ve kept it], because I’m sure it looks like crap. . . . It has no buttons, and it’s really a saggy rag. I’m not really sure how it holds itself together. But it’s a nice weight that fits well [in Southern California].”

The cardigan, purchased in Kansas City, Mo., when Schweitzer was there working on a restaurant, has seen a “slow, steady decline. . . . It fits when it comes out of the dryer--until I move my arm, and then the sleeve is down to my knees and I have to roll it back up. It gets out of shape instantly.”

His wife, chef and restaurateur Mary Sue Milliken, hasn’t attempted to banish the sweater, nor has she made any pointed remarks.

“But she gives me other things, and I think she’s surprised I don’t wear those.”

Schweitzer’s taste in clothes leans toward casual--Mossimo jeans (the Irvine company is also a client), silk shirts from Singapore, turtlenecks and khakis. This spare, clean look has evolved over the past five years; his fashionography includes elephant bell-bottoms, ruffled shirts and thrift store finds.

And as for the fate of that cardigan? It’s safe for now; he has no plans to chuck something both comfortable and classic.

Says Schweitzer: “There’s no end to this sweater.”

Marc Friedland, Graphic Artist

Invitation designer Marc Friedland dresses like his creations, blending eclectic patterns and styles to create a distinctive look.

But there’s another sartorial side to the 35-year-old Friedland--the side that stubbornly hangs on to a particular pair of Levi’s, which, “if any further rippage on the leg happens they’ll become shorts, basically.”

The jeans in question are a mere 5 years old.

“Everybody thinks they look really contrived but they’re not,” says Friedland, who owns the graphic arts company Creative Intelligence. “I just wear them around the house and on weekends--I don’t wear them to work. But they’re still very much a part of my wardrobe. It’s very hard for me to throw them out. Rather than getting a new pair, I’d just wear those.”

The occasional catty comments from friends only strengthen his resolve to hang on. “I treat my clothes like boys in gym class. But they’re really comfortable. . . . They’re like your security blanket from when you were a baby, those nice, soft, cuddly kinds of things that make you feel good no matter what. You can wear them for three days and sleep in them and not really care. “

Manuel Medrano, KNBC Legal Reporter

O.J. Simpson trial addicts know Manuel Medrano as the KNBC analyst who offers his take on court proceedings on the station’s five-night-a-week wrap-up.

The former federal prosecutor, 38, is arguably the best-dressed among television’s bottomless pool of trial commentators. Favoring well-tailored suits, tab-collar shirts and geometric-print ties, Medrano is one natty talking head.

What viewers will probably never see is a pair of striped silk Brooks Brothers braces (suspenders) that Medrano has had for a decade. They’re a little frayed, but he’ll never give them up.

“They’re my lucky braces,” he explains. “Whenever it came down to closing arguments for the jury, I would wear my lucky braces. I just love these things. Every time I wore them I won the case.”

He wore them several years ago when he successfully prosecuted the killers of U.S. narcotics agents, including Enrique Camarena.

In the past few years Medrano has veered from the conservative braces and button-down Brooks Brothers look, opting instead for Hickey-Freeman suits from Nordstrom (he favors shades of blue) and “an occasional Armani,” spicing them up with striped shirts.

Periodically, Medrano does a wardrobe purge. But the braces remain.

“They’re going to my grave with me.”

John Martens, General Manager, Neiman Marcus Beverly Hills

When it comes to his business wardrobe, nothing but the best will do for John Martens, vice president and general manager of Neiman Marcus Beverly Hills.

His shirts are Turnbull & Asser. His suits are Giorgio Armani, Ermenegildo Zegna and Calvin Klein.

And his favorite sweater? An almost buttonless maroon wool Ralph Lauren shawl-collar cardigan circa 1977, on which many moths have snacked over the years.

It was a gift purchased by his wife at the Neiman Marcus store in St. Louis, where he once worked.

“It was our first winter in such a cold climate,” he recalls, “since we were coming from Dallas. I enjoyed putting it on when I got home. It was easy to put on over a T-shirt or a dress shirt. It really did the trick.”

It served him well, and he served it well, folding it carefully and placing it on a shelf at day’s end.

But the sweater’s fate took a turn when he moved to Los Angeles 15 years ago.

“It just didn’t get the same attention,” Martens, in his mid-50s, admits. “I haven’t worn it much here. I love sweaters, but this one is too tired for that sort of thing. I represent our company here, I can’t really go around wearing it.

“Every now and then,” he says, “I go through my closet and pitch things out, but I’ve kept this. For some reason I have an attachment to it. But it really needs to go, whether it will in the next go-round, I’m not sure. It’s in the back of my closet now, jumbled up a bit, I think.”

Fidel Vargas, Mayor of Baldwin Park

The 26-year-old mayor of Baldwin Park knows that appearances count. When Fidel Vargas means business he dresses in a single-breasted navy or pin-stripe suit, a tab-collar shirt and tie.

But find him on a weekend when he’s puttering around the mall, and you’ll see this politico wearing shorts, a T-shirt and jogging shoes.

The T-shirt is probably a vintage, threadbare special, like the commemorative class shirt he got when he graduated from Harvard in 1990.

“Probably the main reason why I’ve kept it is just comfort,” he says. “You just sort of feel unrestrained and comfortable, and that’s what it is for me. The shirt’s pretty beat up. I also have a Gap button-down shirt that I’ve had since 1988--my wife can’t believe I still have it. . . . I’m really not concerned about being what one would call fashionably conscious.”

Even though his constituents might spot him?

“It really doesn’t matter to me. I’m not naive enough to say people don’t judge you by what you wear. If it’s an official function, I’m in a suit and tie. But if I’m just hanging around town, renting a video or going to the bank, I like to be in clothes that I can be relaxed in.”

Another wardrobe die-hard is his letterman’s jacket from his senior year (1986) at Baldwin Park High, the sight of which evokes fond memories.

“The white leather sleeves are more tan than white now,” he admits, “and it’s a little tight on me, and it’s something that I don’t wear that often. But I’ll never throw it away.”