Once again, preppy rules

To 17-year-old Rachel Ward, the Lacoste shirt with its signature crocodile logo is the cutting edge of fashion.

"I'm very into it," said the Scituate High School student. She knows the iconically preppy shirts were big back in the early '80s -- her mom has told her all about it. But as far as she's concerned, that doesn't make preppy any less cool.

For preppy stalwarts, it's about time. After enduring two decidedly unpreppy decades, retailers such as Lacoste, Lilly Pulitzer and L.L.Bean are basking in this back-to-school shopping season's pink-and-green glow.

"All things preppy -- polo shirts, button-down shirts, the boat-and-tote bag -- are selling like hot cakes," said Mary Rose MacKinnon, an L.L.Bean spokeswoman.

Described as "nothing less than a prep mecca" in "The Official Preppy Handbook," published in 1980, the Freeport, Maine, retailer is selling loads of cotton turtlenecks, fair-isle sweaters, and corduroy blazers. People are also monogramming everything from totes to turtlenecks.

Sales of its polo shirt have risen 50 percent in the past two years. Sales of the classic L.L.Bean tote bag, including a new leather version, have risen 35 percent this year. Overall sales, the company said, are up 12 percent compared to this time last year.

The preppy wave is even bringing back forgotten brands. Lacoste, the 71-year-old French clothing maker, licensed its logo to a US company, which operated under the Izod name. In 1993, however, after the fall of the preppy image and years of disappointing sales, Lacoste took back its emblem.

After an absence from the US market, Lacoste slowly began reintroducing itself to the American public. Its timing was uncanny. Fashion was embracing vintage styles, then came the preppy renaissance. Today, the company has nearly 30 stores nationwide, including one recently opened at the Shops at Prudential Center in Boston, and plans for more.

Lilly Pulitzer, who closed her doors in 1984, is also experiencing a revival. Her madcap prints of hot pink, lime green, and electric blue are now the envy of teenagers, though they were once identified with the yacht club set.

In 1993, Sugartown Worldwide Inc. licensed her namesake brand. Since then, the company has grown to more than $40 million in annual sales with 75 shops and department-store boutiques nationwide. In a testament to the rise of preppy, Lilly brought back the Bermuda bag. For fall, the interchangeable covers feature terriers, horses, horseshoes, hearts, and hens.

After dabbling in looks that were less preppy, Gap and JCrew (though it prefers the term classic to preppy) are bringing back argyle sweaters, grosgrain ribbon belts, and geese-embroidered corduroy pants. Decidedly unpreppy retailers like Express and H&M are also doing tweeds, plaids, and pleated skirts during this $15 billion back-to-school season.

"Preppy is a major fashion idea for fall," said Robert Rutkauskas, vice president of fashion for Filene's department stores. "It's influenced the entire market."

Retail analysts said they wouldn't be surprised to see '80s brands like Le Tigre (think tiger instead of crocodile) and MacGregor (think warm-up suits) resuscitated.

With the season off to a slower-than-expected start, the fashion trend might help open parents' wallets a wee bit further, said C. Britt Beemer, founder of America's Research Group, which routinely surveys shoppers. Not only do more teenagers plan to shop with their parents this year than last -- when surfwear and skimpier styles reigned -- but parents are also more likely to spend money on styles they like, Beemer said.

"After all, many of these parents were young when preppy was popular the last time around," he said.

But the new preppy isn't exactly like the old preppy. It's more playful and sexy. Even at Talbots, Hingham's matriarch of preppy dress, corduroy blazers are cropped and tucked at the waist. Argyle patterns come in wild purple hues. Striped shirts combine orange with hot shades of pink. Pleated skirts come in bright yellow plaids and markedly shorter lengths than those of the past.

Kasi Babineau, another Scituate High School student browsing at the Boston Lacoste store this week, isn't planning to wear her father's crocodile sweaters. Babineau, already dressed for the season in a striped belt and a white shirt with ribbon trim, was on the hunt for more.

Ward, her friend and schoolmate, who was wearing a light blue argyle tank top and a blue nose ring, decided to buy a long-sleeve Lacoste shirt for $82. The boldly striped versions retail for $115, and the classic Lacoste dress shirt sells for $135.

"The Lacoste shirts don't die," proclaims a pamphlet available at the store. "They don't even fade away."

Naomi Aoki can be reached at naoki@globe.com.