Clouds In Her Coffee

Tonight Brian treats us to the rich cocoa cravat overlaid with rosy mini-dots in a grid pattern.  She had begun frequenting the coffee shops on those sleepless dawns when the hopelessness kept her awake all night and her bed felt like a punishment.  She would sit small in a corner booth, busily writing in her journal, sampling whatever rich, fragrant brew the barista recommended that day.  Between the bitter sips and biting sentences, she watched the sky turn pink as another day mocked her anew.

Basic Blue

I see Brian Williams.
Look, look. Look at Brian Williams.
Brian Williams is wearing a tie.
It is blue.  It is very, very blue.
Look, look at the blue, blue tie.
That is a very blue tie, Brian Williams!

What Was The Wattage On That Tie, D'Ya Think?

SPT. Holy crap.  Was that thing...illuminated? 

Dark Nobility

This evening's tie is a dusky plum with nightsky stripes.  She approached his battlefield tent with trepidation, but dutifully, bearing a late-supper tray.  His valet nodded and waved her in to its smoky den.  "My lord," she began, but he was nowhere to be seen.  She faltered, confused.  "Here!" he commanded, his voice tired and petulant like a sulking child.  She stepped timidly to the absurdly curtained bedchamber, so opulent for wartime accommodation, even for a noble.  His pale hand drew aside the fabric and took the wine.  In a moment, the goblet reappeared.  "Your father dares to send me such swill?  Even in war, I won't drink vinegar."  The goblet is tipped and the purpled stream is wasted on the ground, drunk by the contested soil beneath.  "At least he has sent it in a lovely vessel.  Come here, closer to me.  Draw open the bedcurtains and let me look more closely at her." 

The Spell

Another old favourite for Brian Williams this evening, the violet cravat with midnight stripes bordered by shimmering pearl.  From behind the folds of his cloak, the spellcaster drew a small ebony casket.  His pale fingers lifted the lid, slowly, allowing a soft glow to emit from its depths.  As she beheld the contents, her eyes widened.  There, nestled amid the velvet was the amulet.  Its mysterious amethyst seemed to darken and lighten with the quickening throb of her heart.  The pearls surrounding it appeared animate, almost breathing with warmth and life. A voice not her own rose around her, whispering, then clamoring with need.

For Want Of An Iron, The Review Was Lost

It looks as if Brian has burrowed deep into his Armoire de Cravates and emerged with this long-forgotten tie of coppery orange crossed by slender true blue diagonals.  This poor, rumpled thing!  Had it been in better condition, looking crisp and snappy, I might have compared it to an autumnal harvest under an October sky, but in its present wrinkly state, it reminds me simply of a losing football team's dejected banners after The Big Game.  They hang limp and forgotten, now seen only by the janitor, who yanks them free, crumples them up, and stuffs them in the bin.

Aw, Gee, Dad

Brian closes out the month with a staid offering of bipartisan blue and red as he reports the news on Florida Primary Night.  This striped tie is from the Ward Cleaver Collection, representing the Jazzy But Calmly Authoritative line, sort of what The Beav's dad would knot up to take Wally and Theodore out for a meet-and-greet with the lead singer of a local combo.  You know, just in case the guy tries to discover Wally and lure him away from the Boy Scouts or something.

How About No, Brian, Okay?

For a moment, I thought perhaps I was watching Brian Williams in a SNL skit where he was reporting the news from Austin Powers' groovy new pad, baby, yeah.  Because this tie was some sort of Mod, Sixties Era cravat one might see in a go-go cage.  Electric raspberry circles, metallic silvery framing--all it needed was faux fur, a bar, and a little switch to make it revolve to throbby beat music. 

What Is The Statement We Are Making With This Tie? (I Have An Idea)

"...And we're back, gang!  A big Thanks to our sponsor, Sal's Vegas Village--the state's finest Pawn Emporium and American Cuisine Buffet!  Don't forget to hit up his website for that coupon! Okay!  Here's our next item up, and it's almost sold out!  A real eye-grabber of a silk tie in neon purple, looks like a sort of...lavender on P90X, guys, and it's got nice slim stripes of in-your-face bright blue!  This tie is lit up like The Strip!  And it can be yours for just a phone call--you know our number!"

Thank Goodness

Mr. Williams comes back to us this evening with a less painful offering of narrow stripes alternating sky and blueberry.  Because I fear my review might be tinged with relief and gratitude rather than objectivity--like extolling the complexity of flavours in a Hostess Twinkie after choking down Aunt Greta's "hospital meatloaf"--I will merely nod in polite approval.

In Which I Imagine Disasters Profound, Having Seen Two In A Row Now Broadcast Before Me

As if trapped in some sort of Dante-esque maelstrom of stygian style oblivion, where we all must be punished for past fashion sins, we had to watch Brian knot up a cousin of last night's cravatical catastrophe.  This evening's disaster, only marginally better than 16 January, was again a breakfasty theme of waffly little Cheeto-colored patches against a Crayola blue field.  At least they were aligned, not askew like last night, but the whole thing had a sort of intarsia, textury thing happening like bad Seventies textiles.  What is happening?  Did a JoAnn Fabric warehouse blow up somewhere and a school is making and selling ties for a fundraiser to benefit a Firefighter/Veterans Rescue Dog Shelter?  Because you and I both know BW could never resist that.

Lil' Abner Might Like It

This tie is automatically and immediately enshrined forever in the Axis Of Evil. What was he thinking?  That faux denim polyester background, those bloody Chex cereal patches going this way and that...the whole thing was like a Dogpatch Designer Challenge on Hillbilly Project Runway.  Grab me my shootin' iron, Granny Gunn.  I'm goin' huntin' fer Real Fashion.

Ugh.

SPT. So disappointing.

What Would You Do?

Another luscious-looking cravat with brown as its dominant colour tonight.  This time, it's the richly textured chocolate with a pattern of tiny peachy-pink dots, all in a neat, orderly grid.  Imagine if you were Newly Resolved, striving to Be Good, and, pushing your shopping trolley past the bakery department, caught sight of that one glistening chocolate frosted doughnut in the case, tempting you with its careless shower of pink sprinkles--so pretty! so...alluring!  And the Only One!  Why, it is practically a sign that you should have it.

Image Is Everything

This tie has been a real Go-To Tie for BriWi lately, and while I like it, I have seen so much of it, I'd like to tell it to Go To.  Anyway, it is a tasteful conservative cravat striped with very narrow bands of worsted grey and a smoky, deep turquoise. It looks capable, yet stylish, like the reason upscale Soccer Moms drive SUV's instead of minivans.

Manifest Destiny

Brian is sophisticated and rich in his cravat of mahogany and metallic gold stripes this evening, the latter diagonals resembling strands of tightly wound tinsel.  This is a tie of weskits and pocket watches, of barred teller windows and smiling bank Presidents with mutton-chop whiskers who offer railroad tycoons a fine cigar from the humidor on the desk.  Leather chairs complain loudly as these titans of new industry settle in, and the dollar signs drift and multiply above their heads.