By Marc Fisher
Tuesday, May 2, 2006

"No Excessively Baggy Clothing. No Sweats or Athletic Wear. No Skull Caps of Any Kind."

The sleek new bowling alley next door to Abe Pollin's sports arena on Seventh Street NW aims to be a classy joint. Lucky Strike Lanes, which opened in November, is the kind of place where an hour of bowling can set you back $75, shoes not included.

"No Clothing With Offensive Writing. No Exposed Intimate Apparel. No Sports Jerseys."

Lucky Strike's dress code is "strictly enforced," as the signs warn. Like any dress code, this one's purpose is to establish an atmosphere and keep out the riffraff.

But who is the riffraff when the code says "No Excessively Long Sweaters or Jackets" and "No Chains"?

Do the 13 banned categories on Lucky Strike's list add up to one conclusion: blacks not welcome?

When Robin Stevenson and 12 of her friends decided to meet one Friday night for dinner and bowling, the sign on Lucky Strike's door stopped her cold. "My Caucasian co-worker told me that she and her friends had a blast" at the bowling place, Stevenson wrote in a letter to Lucky Strike management. "Looking at your dress code truly explains to me why she had a great time -- No colored people were allowed."

In fact, plenty of black customers go to Lucky Strike and seem to have a great time. The crowd is racially mixed, and the atmosphere is jovial. The dress code has its desired effect; one Washington blogger urged her friends to come out to the place because it's "swanky as hell, very posh."

But the dress code here and in other cities has raised eyebrows. As Stevenson wondered, "How is it that I do not see anything on your sign regarding long black Matrix-like trench coats or Goth-type clothing?"

In Chicago, Lucky Strike customers complained that a black man was asked to remove his hat while a white guy kept his on just feet away.

"I don't think the policy is aimed at any particular group outside of the gang influence out there," says Bill Scheidhauer, chief operating officer at Lucky Strike headquarters in Chicago. "We noticed we had a number of problems with gang members," so the company instituted the code at all of its 12 locations. (The rules in Washington have been relaxed to allow sports jerseys because the Wizards and Capitals play next door and some fans like to bowl after attending a game.)

Scheidhauer says the dress code gets specific to "save our guests any kind of embarrassment at the front door. This way, they know how to dress appropriately ahead of time." Complaints about the code pop up in every city Lucky Strike enters, but after a few months, "it goes away because people get used to it and see what kind of atmosphere we offer. In D.C., it's a great-looking crowd. The racial mix is a mix of everyone interacting together."

To be sure, many customers, black or white, are happy to pay more to avoid contact with thugs of any race. But as Stevenson argues, these rules seem aimed mainly at the hip-hop crowd. "I see our dollars aren't good enough for you," she wrote.

There's no legal issue here. Although it is illegal in the District for a business to bar anyone by race or personal appearance, the law specifically allows dress codes if they are uniformly applied.

In this case, says Art Spitzer, legal director of the Washington office of the American Civil Liberties Union, "one could suggest that the only plausible reason for this particular list of standards is the effect it would have on African Americans who tend to dress in this sort of way." But the law protects Lucky Strike's code, just as it permits upscale restaurants to make men wear a jacket and tie.

The problem with the Lucky Strike code, Spitzer says, is that it "seems more focused in one direction -- negatively -- on one style of dress, while the jacket and tie requirement is in a positive direction," offering a way for anyone to fit in.

Businesses have come up with ingenious and subtle ways to make it clear who isn't welcome: Everything from decor to typeface, style of music to content of the menu delivers a message about whom a place is really for.

When a bar plays hip-hop, heavy-metal fans don't shout discrimination; they simply choose another hangout.

Lucky Strike is guilty of nothing more or less than being inartful in crafting its appeal. The bowling alley could have achieved the same result by dropping its nasty dress code and making a general request for classy appearance. If it really wants to keep the gang guys out, slap on a music mix involving Lou Rawls, Garth Brooks, Barry White and Harry Connick. A drastic measure, to be sure, but in business, sometimes you have to be ruthless.

E-mail:marcfisher@washpost.com