BY DESIGN : The De-Blahing of Bob : There’s one in every office--the guy who wears nothing but black, gray and beige. But if our Bob can discover colors, so can yours.

You know what’s funny? My dad spent his whole life working in the L.A. garment district, selling fabrics, and I never cared about clothes. I mean, I can afford to buy nice clothes once in awhile, but I’ve never thought of them as a priority, even a low priority. I own two more guitars than suits. I alternate two pairs of shoes and four pairs of pants to the office. I think a black shirt over black slacks looks cool.

I never cared, and I never thought people noticed.

I was wrong.

Some kind soul at The Times, hearing of an in-house search for a guy with a dull office wardrobe to undergo a make-over, suggested me. I had no clue. What were they going to do? Tweeze my eyebrows? Give me neck exercises for that creeping double chin? Make me wear bell-bottoms?

But there was a sign that a remake would be a good thing. It came from my colleagues on the city desk who, when word got out that I had been nominated, stood up and applauded.

Here’s what the make-over taught me: There are vibrant colors out there. You can wear orange sherbet-colored shirts and look good. You can play with contrasts. Purple shirt and green jacket: Bang! You can discover things: I never knew what a double pleat was. And while the new looks I was given took more money than I’m used to spending (pants, in my book, cost $35, not $85), it won’t bankrupt me to break the rules once in awhile.

But the biggest lesson--and this is a notion I have resisted my entire life--was: It’s fun. The simple sensation of enjoying clothes had been completely foreign to me, and as I sit in the office typing this (wearing a black shirt, jeans and sneakers) I vow to change. Ralph Lauren is not finished with me yet.