What happens when a prep couture line tries its hand at grub? Food and waifish models side by side? Only in Georgetown. The month-old Rugby is the first of Ralph Lauren’s six hip international stores (no, they don’t sell their wares online) to open a bistro next door—the oh so creatively named Rugby Café. Like the clothing, the prices are slightly steep for what’s actually presented—a scrap of tank top here, a bowl of spinach drenched in balsamic there. The menu is clearly designed to keep you in single-digit sizes, what with salads, paninis, grilled chicken, toasted organic oatmeal, and six-dollar smoothies on the list. And as if it were designed by Bubba-gone-healthy, just about every other menu item contains avocado: shrimp with avocado, “eggs your way” with avocado, toast with simple “avo.”

But Rugby tries to balance the new-age, health-conscious menu with a funked-out Northeastern academic look. It’s Abercrombie-meets-garage sale. For every circa-1930s team shot on the wall, there’s an Iggy Pop poster. Next to a framed family crest hangs a haunting image of Dylan. Moose ears sit above the door, skulls and crossbones pillows sit on the booth.

And the vintage vibe extends to the staff. Waitresses sport oxfords, loosened ties and strategically ripped denim. The guys smell musky, and every one of them seems to be the lacrosse captain who never said hi to you. A few accessorize with accents—usually Australian or British. Yesterday, an Aussie-looking male was outside, apathetically watering the front plants in front of a chalkboard sign that read, “Hot? Cool Off With Fresh Mint Iced Tea.” Maybe that’s their spin on the pretty person business model—understated, but straight to the point: we want hot.