In a world not very far away, Frank Sinatra is held in higher esteem than Nine Inch Nails, cocktails are preferred over microbrews, and tuxedoes have more utility than flannel. If you feel that the 1990s are hopelessly dour, you are not alone. Over the past few years, more and more people have become attracted to the halcyon days of the 1950s, a legendary time of exotic drinks, backyard tiki parties, and xylophones. Before that nasty Elvis Presley came along and spoiled everything, that is.

Tediously enough, too much rock these days is about authenticity, and whose pain is the most genuine. The lounge aesthetic is gleefully inauthentic -- it's all about being a peacock, about putting on a Technicolor show. And you can join the party, even if all your previous lounging has included "Barca" as a prefix. Your three pillars: music, clothing, and alcohol. There are new groups reviving the eclectic quasi-jazz sound of lounge: try Combustible Edison, Grenadine, Love Jones, or the Coctails. If you want to go back to the classics, check out the Incredibly Strange Music series, the eclectic Esquieviel, or even early Neil Diamond -- you're best off stopping around the time he turned on his heartlight.

The clothing tends toward antique finery: vintage suits, cocktail dresses, gold lamé.

CAN'T make it to Windows? Fear not. There are many, many lounge options, in cities, towns, and finished basements throughout the country. Vic's Lounge is a roundup of all things swank and cheeky, with an excellent list of required listening (with sound files!), as well as a state-by-state guide to cocktail parties around the country.

Alcohol is all about aperitifs: obscure concoctions from old bartending guides, or just about any oddly named house drink with an umbrella in it. Mix and match your lounge favorites, whether you love it all or just want to pump irony.

If you have frequent flyer miles, you can always head to Las Vegas. Or if you have a Blockbuster membership, you can rent 1996's Swingers. But if you live in New York City, you can just dress up and head out to Windows on the World , atop the World Trade Center. After ten p.m. on Wednesdays, the ritzy restaurant with unbelievable views becomes home to Strato-Lounge, a swinging, cover-charge-less scene. A small band plays upbeat jazz favorites, and aging stockbrokers order martinis alongside girls in antique black dresses and boys in ripped suede shirts who look like they just wandered in from a Loverboy video. Even Kate Moss was holding court on a recent week. It's not a classic red-velvet lounge -- but it brings the joyful swank of the Eisenhower administration into the age of Clinton.