I apologize for being late to the game, but now I have this vision of the Captain ordering the beams of pure antigeckonium be fired on the other ship, and seeing everyone on that ship suddenly slipping and sliding around, unable to even sit in the perfectly-frictionless chairs, much less take effective action. And then, for the coup de grace, the captain orders the communications officer to open a channel to the beaten vessel ... and start playing ``Yakity Sax''.
I assumed clothing in the utopia had some sort of magnetic property for coms and pips and maybe fashion crap.