Manolo for the Men

Stepping out on a warm summer evening looking sleek – face tan and stomach more trim than it’s been since last fall – will Mr. Henry ruin the line of his trousers with a bulging wallet in the pocket?

Since he doesn’t need a jacket in hot weather, why would he carry a fat wallet?

In addition to paper billets, his wallet bulges with credit cards (three), driver’s license, health club card, Metrocard transit pass, pictures of Little Henry (three), museum membership cards (four), insurance card, AAA card, business cards (three), and assorted restaurant receipts.

When headed for the local eatery with every intention of ordering a full allotment of two drinks before stumbling home a crooked mile, does he really need to carry so much back-up?

Not at all. Leaving the house in the evening, he pockets a slim card case sparely rigged out with driver’s license (in case of terrorist emergency), a Metrocard (in case of taxi strike), one credit card (VISA), and a business card. He then collects about $100 in assorted denominations – just enough clobber to cover any likely eventuality – and folds the bills into the front pants pocket next to card case and house keys.

Voilá. A flat front pocket. With this Spartan kit he is as prepared for battle as any knight of yore, better prepared, actually, because if he should take a tumble he won’t require the assistance of a page boy to remount.

Perforated like a racing glove, Jack Spade’s Monza wallet is designed to hold the driver’s license you show the policeman who caught you on the autostrada doing three times the limit in your1964 Ferrari 275.   Needless to say, the only reason you were stopped was because the Polizia di Stato had one of these.

In a famous episode of Seinfeld, George fantasizes about the “trifecta,” in which he combines his three favorite things: having sex while watching TV and eating food. Along the same lines, this wallet from Paul Smith, insofar as it features a Vargas-esque pin-up holding a soccer ball, could be called the European bifecta. But is it tasteful? Well, you can’t spell “high class” without a-s-s.