Put on your jammies and open your wallet. It may only be a matter of time before the latest New York craze finds its way to Pittsburgh. (It's already migrated to Canada and Hawaii, so it should get here before too long.) I'm talking about cuddle parties.

It's come to this: People are so starved for affectionate touch that they will pay $20 or $30 (NYC pricing; yours may vary) to spend three hours sprawled on blankets and pillows with a roomful of strangers ... cuddling.

For you menfolk who may be a little fuzzy on the difference between cuddling and other sprawled-on-blankets-touching-type activities, the jammies stay on, permission to touch must be granted, and this is not an orgy -- there is no groping, no booze and no, um, pretending to be doing something you can't quite accomplish through jammies.

The cuddle party concept originated with a pair of entrepreneurial sex and romance coaches in New York who have brilliantly tapped into the isolation of modern urban life. Census data show that more and more of us live alone, and if you don't have a lover or child and your landlord doesn't allow pets, you may have to deliberately ride buses at rush hour or go through airport security just to feel a warm hand on your shoulder.

Twenty or 30 dollars seems an outrageous price to get touched, but it's still much cheaper than a facial or a massage, time-honored ways to get someone to touch you as if he or she cared but without the lurking specter of sex.

So, after some orientation and ice-breaking exercises and an explanation of the rules, cuddle-party participants spoon, hug, snuggle, nuzzle, play with each other's hair, rub necks and shoulders and can even kiss -- but you have to say "mother may I" first.

It sounds like the infamous Antioch College sexual consent rules from a few years back. "May I hold your hand?" "May I rub your neck?" "May I kiss you?" "May I inquire whether you have brought a firearm to a cuddle party or are merely pleased to make my acquaintance?"

Participants seem to like it, but I can't help thinking it's a bit sad. When I was little, my widowed grandmother used to give me 50 cents to brush her hair. It seemed like absurdly easy money at the time, but now I understand, and I feel bad about it. I should have asked for a dollar.

If cuddling with strangers doesn't appeal, you can pay a little more for a permanent embrace that won't ask for anything. From Japan, the wonderful people who brought us electronic pets (all the responsibility, none of the companionship or fur), comes the Boyfriend's Arm pillow.

Available online for about $50 plus shipping, it's a body pillow shaped like half a man's torso with a large encircling arm and puffy hand. Single Japanese women can't get enough of them. True, pillows don't snore or steal the covers. They don't complain that their arm has fallen asleep or that you're making them too hot. They don't eat too much sushi and toss and turn all night.

Still, one ad listed the arm pillow as a "great Christmas or Valentine's gift!!" and I disagree. I'm not convinced that it's a good gift at all -- nothing says, "Hey, it's not as if you can do better" like a faux bedmate -- but it would be nothing short of diabolical on Valentine's Day. Anyone who commits that is asking for an envelope of anthrax in return.

Dispiriting as the Boyfriend's Arm phenomenon may be, it targets a deep need in women -- one that, according to the latest research, men do not share. A team at the University of North Carolina's medical school has found that nonsexual stroking can lower a woman's blood pressure as much as medication.

This is why my mother's cat is so relaxed all the time.

The study found that when her partner strokes her hands, neck or back while she watches a movie, a woman's brain secretes 20 percent more oxytocin, a calming hormone that slows the heart. And the stroking produced much more oxytocin than holding hands, lying side by side or gazing into each other's eyes.

Repeated doses of oxytocin contribute to bonding. Think of it as epoxytocin.

So that's why there's no need for booze at cuddle parties: The women are all zonked out on oxytocin. And the men doubtless appreciate being surrounded by very relaxed women.

When the Japanese can make the arm pillow truly cuddle, sales will go through the roof. Still, it won't breathe, lean on your hair or wake you with a stubbly kiss.

What a shame.