FASHION : Single File : When Cosmo Calls, Bachelors of Every Stripe Answer

Cosmopolitan magazine’s open-call audition last week for its “1997 Bachelor of the Month” calendar brought scores of well-dressed, self-professed hunks to the Hard Rock Cafe at the Beverly Center.

Each had his own stylistic interpretation of what it means to be attractively bachelor-ish, of course. There was the ultra-grimy plumber guy, for the lady who might like to think of her Mr. July sweating over pesky toilet valves--just before he romances her. The oh-so-serious, three-piece-suited businessman who talked incessantly into a cell phone accessory--probably hoping to convey, “I’m too busy for you, babe, but you like that.” And the sweet 15-year-old surfer boy who had barely grown into his neck. “I brought along my little brother so we could use the car-pool lane,” explained his buffed 22-year-old brother.

All those muscles and all that bachelorness seemed to bring out the best in everyone. “I thought I had a chance,” said one tiny fellow, looking up at the three massive rapper types queuing up behind him. “But now I’m not so sure.”

“You always have a chance, brother,” replied one hulking hunk, sporty in extra-baggy low-riders with peek-a-boo flowered boxers.