(FORTUNE Magazine) – YOU'RE THE TOP, you're a lazy Sunday . . . you're a lunch on Monday, you're a blue-chip stock . . .'' Listen to the beguiling female voice croon a television commercial pitching Chivas Regal whisky in Bangkok. To Westerners, the images flashing across the screen are cute but unremarkable: humanized bottles lounging in a hammock, power-lunching at an upscale restaurant, crowding in front of a stock market terminal watching their fortunes soar. To many viewers in Thailand, where per capita GDP is $1,200 a year, these gimmicky scenes of success are doubly unreal. The song continues: ''You're the perfect deal, you're a Vietnamese meal . . . you're a Porsche, you're a first- born son.'' In other words, you're a yuppie, Asia-style. In Thailand, Taiwan, South Korea, and other fast-developing Asian countries, marketers are discovering a growing class of young professionals and entrepreneurs whose affluence defies the convenient, broad-based statistics so often used to size up these markets. Sell to the averages in Thailand, for instance, and that bottle of Chivas Regal would consume a week's income for the average man, woman, or child. But sift the numbers -- or walk the streets of Bangkok, Taipei, and Seoul -- and you will find hundreds of thousands of young consumers whose spending power is five, ten, or 20 times that of their more typical compatriots. Their formidable earning power -- and eagerness to & buy -- is stimulating sales of everything from sports cars and brand-name apparel to home furnishings, travel, and, yes, Scotch whisky. Meet Tina Ma, one of three dozen or so young Asian professionals who spoke with FORTUNE about their spending habits. Over dinner at a trendy Taipei restaurant, she seems to epitomize this emerging breed of chuppies, as Chinese yuppies are sometimes known. Ma, 29, is public relations director of Taipei's English-language radio station. Her husband, Simon Wu, 30, is a plastic surgeon. Together they earn about $70,000 a year, nearly ten times the per capita income in Taiwan. That puts them in the upper income range among all Asian yuppies. Like many young Chinese, they live with his parents, an arrangement that boosts discretionary income. ''I really don't watch my bank account too much,'' she says. ''We buy what we like.'' That includes expensive clothing, concerts, vacations in the U.S. and exotic places around Asia, and Chinese paintings. Despite $100-a-round greens fees on weekends, Simon is a golf addict. Four to five times a week Tina works out at a health club located above Taipei's priciest -- and her favorite -- department store. Revved up from discussing her lifestyle, she abruptly shifts gears: ''We're so confused by all the influences from the West. I don't want to be Western. I want to be Chinese.'' Modern and traditional, Western and Asian, the disparate forces tugging on Asian yuppies are also a source of confusion for marketers trying to figure out what makes these consumers tick. Who are they? In Singapore, Hong Kong, Taipei, and Seoul, the leading centers (outside Japan, which is another story) of Asia's new yuppiedom, there are perhaps a million people in their 20s or 30s who hold professional, managerial, or technical jobs. In addition, there is a substantial number -- no one knows how substantial -- of self-employed entrepreneurs who fall into the same demographic group. Most are college- educated. How much do they make? A 32-year-old lawyer in Seoul might earn $31,000 a year; a Taipei banker of similar age and experience, $18,000; a Singapore engineer, $25,000; a Hong Kong sales executive, $32,000. Choe Yon-Ho, 26, a pediatrician with a year to go before completing his residency, expects to start out earning between $22,000 and $30,000 a year. That's far less, of course, than their counterparts earn in the U.S., where a typical yuppie makes just over $50,000 a year. But their incomes -- already princely compared with those of other Asians -- have been rising 15% to 20% annually. Also, their numbers are growing. There are almost twice as many young professionals in Seoul and Singapore, for example, than there were ten years ago. UNDERSTANDING what makes them tick is the hard part. ''This young generation has grown up in an uninterrupted age of opportunity and prosperity,'' says Kim Mun-Cho, a Korea University sociologist who at 40 is old enough to remember the hard years right after the Korean war. For a while his father, a professor, was paid partly in rice, which his mother bartered for other kinds of food. As South Korea's economy developed, Kim's parents and the rest of that generation worked tirelessly, lived frugally, and saved religiously. In part, they had little choice because the government made sure through high tariffs and other restrictions that there were few ways for consumers to spend money. Says Kim of young Koreans: ''Such memories are not part of their consciousness.'' Though the crossover from hardship and plenty came at different times and in different ways, the same can be said of yuppies in Taiwan, Singapore, and elsewhere. Now, in a rush, everything that restrained their parents is disappearing. Money, the biggest constraint of all, is abundant. In Taiwan and Korea travel restrictions that drew a curtain on the rest of the world have been lifted. Singapore's rigid government is loosening up too, says Paul Lee, 29, manager of the new Hard Rock Cafe: ''People here are more able to express themselves, be themselves, hang out.'' Such new freedom is leading the young Asians to question many traditional Asian values. Says Tina Lee, 28, who recently started her own public relations and marketing firm in Singapore: ''Arranged marriages were common among my parents' generation. My generation feels that you marry because you want to. I wouldn't want to get married if it would infringe on what I'm able to do, what I'm able to afford.'' In most big cities in the region, women are marrying later and having significantly fewer children. Like Debbie Wang, 33, a Taipei public relations consultant, many women have rejected the traditional expectation of Chinese society that they must bear a son in order to have someone to look after them in their old age. Says Wang, who has a 4-year-old daughter and ''at most'' plans one more child: ''Today we teach our children to be independent, and to < allow their parents to live independent lives of their own. Of course we care about our children, but I think we care more about ourselves than our parents cared about themselves.'' Many members of this rising Me Generation work five days a week, not the six or seven their parents toiled. Says Hyundai Motor's domestic marketing chief, Hong Tu Pyo: ''Forty-year-olds will work when their company needs them. The 20- and 30-year-olds won't necessarily work extra. They would prefer to go camping or hiking, or keep their own schedule.'' To make the most of their longer leisure hours, the yuppies spend money that their elders would have put in the bank. Debbie Wang says, ''Our parents saved half or even two-thirds of their income. We save 10% or 20%. That's enough.'' Compounding these sins, at least in the eyes of the older generation, is the proclivity of many yuppies to pay for their desires with credit cards instead of cold cash. Says sociologist Aline Wong, a member of Singapore's Parliament: ''You couldn't tempt the older generation with a credit card.'' ASIA'S YUPPIES dream first of owning a car, then a house -- a striking shift in priorities compared with their parents, for whom nothing came before a home. Ha Seok Won, 27, a lawyer in Seoul, calls a car ''mandatory'' (he owns a LeMans that cost $13,000). Yuppies who feel that way are a major target for Korean automakers, which sold 50% more cars to domestic buyers last year than in 1988. Even in Hong Kong and Singapore, where autos are taxed heavily to postpone the day of total gridlock, many yuppies somehow find the wherewithal to get a set of wheels. Aaren Yu, 29, who owns a small Hong Kong ad agency, paid $40,000 for a new BMW 325i. Asian yuppies crave big-name brands. A cruise through Sunrise Department Store in Taipei finds Ungaro, Boss, Ermenegildo Zegna, and Gianni Versace, to mention a few high-fashion names. Plus: Timberland deck shoes for $172; Ralph Lauren shorts for $90; Allen Edmonds shoes for $306; and a Giorgio Armani sports jacket for $1,280. All this is on the same floor as a movie theater that sells popcorn and boiled chicken feet. Dickson Concepts, a ten-year-old Hong Kong company, has built its whole business on brand-name luxury products. Through licenses or franchises, it sells Bulgari and Hermes watches, Guy Laroche and Charles Jourdan apparel and accessories, and a smorgasbord of Ralph Lauren/Polo products. Sales have grown 50% annually for the past five years. Marketers say they used to be able to sell yuppies anything with a hot brand name on it. Slowly that's changing, especially in Hong Kong and Singapore, where shoppers are more experienced. Aaren Yu, for example, knows his brands, but sees more than just logos when he shops. Before he transformed himself into an adman seven years ago, Yu made his living hawking char siu fan (rice with roast pork) on the streets of Hong Kong. ''When I go shopping,'' he says, ''what I'm looking for is first style, then quality, then price.'' Yuppies are discovering fresh ways to entertain themselves. In Korea, they're heading for the newly opened ski slopes within easy driving range of Seoul. In Thailand, Somkiat Chatromyen, 31, an assistant manager for a Japanese food exporter, spends $50 a month (a substantial part of his $580-a- month salary) at a health club. Recently he joined a golf club, to get in on the hottest sport in Asia, despite its steep cost (see table). Even more popular among yuppies is taking a trip. No conversation is complete without: ''Where are you going on your next holiday?'' Ng Chai Ngee, 29, a Singapore lawyer working for a legal society, is planning a scuba-diving expedition in Mauritius or Bali. Tinlo Poon, 31, a life insurance salesman in Hong Kong, and his accountant wife, Patsy, 29, are heading for Europe for the first time. Their budget: $5,000. The yuppies' urge to travel is having an important ripple effect. Recalls Beatrice Lin, a public relations adviser in Taipei: ''My sisters and I encouraged our parents to go on a trip. They said no, but we realized they were worried about the money. We told them, 'Look, you don't have to worry about giving us money. We don't need your money. We can even support you.' Now they travel.'' Her colleague, Benjamin Tchang, 39, remembers coaching his parents on eating with a knife and fork before they departed for a month in Europe. They had never been to a Western-style restaurant. TO OUTSIDERS, this display of dazzling spending doesn't make sense. How do people earning $30,000 a year afford so much? Leon Hu, 40, who is setting up a brokerage company in Taipei, asked himself that question when he came home in 1985 after almost 14 years in California. Says he: ''I couldn't believe these people could afford to spend $100 on a name-brand shirt that might cost half as much in the States.'' There are many partial answers: relatively low taxes, fringe benefits such , as company cars and housing allowances from employers, and big year-end bonuses that tend to encourage spending binges. But the most convincing explanation is that Asian children typically live with their parents until they marry -- and frequently even after that. Though Asian yuppies increasingly are moving out, all understand the bottom line of life with mom and dad. Says Beatrice Lin: ''If you eat at home with your parents, and pay no rent, you have lots to spend on luxuries.'' Tina Ma and her husband don't plan to leave his parents' home until they have children of their own. Choe Yon-Ho, the Seoul pediatrician, will continue living with his parents after he marries next year. The tendency of young Asians to live with their parents for five or even ten years after they start working is the result of high housing costs as much as cultural habit. Says Ivy Thomas, 34, an account manager at an ad agency in Singapore: ''I would have loved to have moved out and had my own place. But if I had, I think my mother would have gone absolutely berserk. And I would have had to take a hard look at my finances. I would have had to give up a lot of conveniences.'' FEW yuppies can afford to leave home without help from their parents. A two- bedroom apartment an hour's drive from central Taipei has tripled in price in three years. Jo Yong-Ho, 28, an accountant and tax attorney in Seoul, beat the real estate surge there when he bought a 900-square-foot apartment in the suburbs three years ago for $35,000 (at the current exchange rate). His parents paid most of that. A year later he sold it for $80,000 and, with a bank loan, bought a larger apartment for $120,000. He figures his new home is now worth $200,000. Many young professionals are so discouraged by the escalating prices that they have abandoned the idea of owning their own place. Says Richard Hsiung, managing director of the Taipei office of HDM, an international ad agency: ''These people are angry. They know they could save for ten years and never have enough to buy a home.'' So, rather than save for one, they splurge on what they can afford. Debbie Wang of Taipei says a couple she knows went on such a spree not long ago, buying expensive furniture and a stereo system for their rental apartment. ''They had been working like crazy to save for a home, but they realized that was an impossible dream. They cut back to eight-hour days and decided to enjoy themselves.'' Alert companies are spotting profitable niches in the yuppie market. Last , year, Seagram brought out a whiskey in Seoul aimed at young drinkers who want an upscale image but can't afford $100 a bottle for Chivas Regal or Johnnie Walker Black Label. Called Secret, it sells for $9 a bottle and has so far captured 5% of the total whiskey market. In February, South Korea's Hyundai Motor took aim at the market with the Scoupe, a $10,000 sports car that comes in vivid colors. Big retailers throughout the region have set up boutiques or carved out special departments within their stores. Tang's of Singapore went a step further when it created a new specialty clothing store dedicated to a subgroup of yuppies it calls NOPEs -- not outwardly prosperous or educated consumers. ''In Singapore,'' explains Ng Chai Ngee, ''the trick is to be as subtle as you can be in showing your wealth. Then you've really arrived.'' The American Express charge card is flourishing in Asia, thanks to young professionals. But the company realized that in Singapore it wasn't marketing as aggressively as it might to these key customers. To better reflect the trend toward youth, Singapore general manager Barry Arnold ordered a new set of TV ads featuring yuppies spending their way through local clothing boutiques and glamorous gift shops.

Citibank even found an opportunity in the high-priced housing market. In Korea, banks have always required that potential home buyers pay into a savings account for several years before even applying for a mortgage. The problem was that while the customer was waiting to qualify, prices were rising exponentially. Citibank dropped the installment savings requirement. If a buyer has a down payment and a high-enough income, Citibank approves the loan within ten days. Since it first offered the mortgage in February, the bank has been getting about 1,000 inquiries a day -- mostly from young professionals. As more companies slug it out for the yuppie dollar, they are pressing ad agencies to find more efficient ways of delivering their messages. One result: Magazines aimed at young professionals have mushroomed over the past five years. Though written in the local language, many of them are sprinkled with English words -- even in Taipei and other cities where English is not widely spoken. Yuppies think the ability to speak a little English or recognize common English words or brand names distinguishes them from less sophisticated consumers. Meanwhile, the spread of credit cards is enabling marketers to build databases to use in direct mail and telemarketing. ) NO MATTER how finely tuned the marketing pitch, some products and services aren't likely to appeal to Asia's yuppies for a long time. Insurance is a prime example. Few of the young people FORTUNE interviewed could imagine insuring their homes against loss from fire or theft. As Seoul accountant Choi Yil-Hwan, 28, put it: ''We don't like to think about the worst things that can happen.'' Life insurance, commonly viewed as ''death insurance'' by most Chinese, is only slightly more popular. James Wong, senior vice president for American International Assurance in Hong Kong, believes life insurance will eventually appeal to the yuppie generation if they can be made to see it as a way to save. The smartest companies are already positioning themselves to catch tomorrow's young consumers. The numbers tell why. According to Michael Morris of Pacific Rim Consulting Group in Singapore, the number of people ages 20 to 39 in Asia (not counting Japan and the Indian subcontinent) will increase from an average of 425 million in the 1970s to 600 million by the year 2000. China will account for no more than a third of the growth. During the same period, by contrast, that age group in the U.S., Japan, and the European Community will shrink from 196 million to 163 million. Of course, not very many of them are yuppies. Morris cautions that Asia's staggering population growth could lead to a decline of living standards instead of more economic growth. But he's betting on economic growth -- and an increase in yuppies. So is Andreas Schlaepfer, managing director of Nestle's Thailand operation. Says he: ''Yuppies' role as trendsetters should not be underestimated.'' In a recent ad campaign in Bangkok, Nestle cloaked its Nescafe coffee in the imagery of yuppies. The ad, which includes on-the-go scenes at home and at the office, ends in a local bar filled with young Thais relaxing to a pianist's easy jazz. Play it again, Somchai.

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