Monday, December 9, 2013
Oh, we do love this striped tie of mahogany and gold shot through with tiny threads. She was blind now, but it was impossible to tell. She knew the interior of her home so well that she navigated it expertly, even without a cane. Her appetite was scant, and there was little left of her but her brown skin stretched over old bones, taut and smooth. Guests delighted but tired her, so he was careful to stay only a little while. This time, he brought her a pound of her favourite chocolates in a box. She was confused at first and, lifting it to her nose, suddenly smiled in recognition and joy. Quickly lifting the lid, her fingers then prowled among the candies until they found one wrapped in golden foil. It was swiftly unwrapped, popped in the mouth, and her face showed deep satisfaction. After a profound sigh of contentment, she smiled. "You," she told him pointedly, "can come anytime."
Thursday, December 5, 2013
As usual there are stripes tonight, but this tie is a rarity for its mossy green diagonals partnered with navy. Green is an uncommon sight in a Brian Williams cravat, like a peacock on the roadside, or a cheeseburger at a cocktail party. Certainly it could happen, and perhaps once or twice it has, but it is still occasion enough to cause comment.
Brought to Life by Nance at 11:57 PM
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Impeccably knotted, tonight's cravat is a silky stripe of rich cream and smoky navy stripes. He sat in the shadowy booth alone and watched her at the bar. Her posture on the stool was somehow studied and casual at the same time. She was drinking White Russians and her motion was balletic; the way she lifted the glass, tilted it to take a sip, moved the straw aside with one finger, and set it down without a sound. Every so often she would pull her long, dark hair back and to one side with a quick, mystifying gesture involving her hand, only a couple of fingers, and a beautiful turn of her wrist ending with a brief moment in which she looked like she was going to beckon him to come to her. But no; instead she would drop it to her bodice or her hip, smooth her blue silk sheath, and thoughtfully take another sip.
Brought to Life by Nance at 8:28 PM
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Monday, December 2, 2013
We're back from our petite vacance and ready again to report, this time on Bri's cravat of faded denim with smudgy polka dots of campfire ash. She sighed when she saw the next stop on her list. She didn't dread seeing Maggie, but it tugged at her in the most distressing way. Maggie's tiny apartment was cramped and full of dust and junk. It reeked viciously of the unfiltered cigarettes she smoked, and every surface had either burn marks, small logs of ash where a cigarette had been left to burn, or a grey smudge where she had ground one out. She answered the door with a brilliant smile, always wearing the same enormous pair of Wrangler overalls and a sweatshirt with puffy painted cardinals underneath. Taking the styrofoam container, she would say thank you effusively, add a few God Bless Yous, and disappear back into her disarray.
Brought to Life by Nance at 9:15 PM
Thursday, November 14, 2013
This evening's neckwear choice is a cravat with wide stripes of smoky dress navy and bright lilac. Muffled strains of jazz music lured passers-by in from the rain slicked street. Now and then the door would swing open and a patron would slide out and so would the music, cool and warm at the same time, hot riffs of piano topped off by stone cold bass, chunking out the notes like a bullfrog. A few neon signs made bright puddles as she put on her lipstick in the streetlight's glow, and it seemed like the music was purple, then blue, then red, white, purple, blue, and they went in to a saxophone's wail.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Tonight, Brian finds his way back to the distressed blue silk tie with charcoal polka dots. Her GPS cord, frayed and spiky with bare wires, had finally given up. Even though she'd never read a map in her life, she rummaged through the glove compartment of her car, praying one would magically just...be there, like there always was in her dad's Fords. Resigned, she stopped at the next gas station, which out here, looked like a cabin or a very small hunting lodge. Inside, the men were covered in denim and grease. Most of them had a cigarette hanging from one corner of their mouth, and all of them looked at her interestedly.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
It has been a while since we've seen this particular cravat of charcoal grey with barely discernible ash-coloured medallions, a classic foulard pattern. Sometime in the depth of night, she awoke, freezing and aware of a dull pain in her back and legs. Her mind felt furred and disconnected, like she was floating up from a drug-induced sleep. A long glow of white light appeared suddenly, and she instinctively raised her hand to shield her eyes. A massive bolt of pain rocketed up her spine; she gasped, and slipped away again, but not before she saw the frost. It was frost, in beautiful patterns blooming against the dark window half-buried in the snow.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
For his offering this evening, Brian ties on a cravat of deep navy with widely spaced stripes of true red snugged by white on either side. It would have been cliché to have worn this Patriotic Tie yesterday, on Election Day. As is his habit, Brian Williams wears it the day after instead, so as not to be cutesy or flip. The News is a Serious Business, and as the Trusted Voice Of Our Nation's Ever-Changing Scene, he cannot afford to be viewed as either.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Brian Williams chooses the violet textured silk cravat sprinkled with small white dots. She wakened every morning at exactly eight even though there really was no reason to. No alarm urged her out of bed; no employment awaited her. She didn't even have a dog or cat awaiting a rush of kibble into its dish. But she liked to be part of a routine, a cog in a bustling movement of Life. She pulled on her robe and slid her feet into slippers. In the bathroom, once she accomplished her own few necessaries, she filled a small watering can. She walked back out into her room and greeted her charges, a lush row of African violets, velvety and beautiful. "Good Morning, lovelies," she crooned to each purple and white-throated bloom. After a careful watering, she gently daubed away any beads of water from every solitary leaf on which they stood. She pressed a button on the CD player, and out flowed Rachmaninoff, softly, as she conducted, perfectly.
Brought to Life by Nance at 10:24 PM
Friday, November 1, 2013
Tonight's tie is so similar to last night's that, if you only took a cursory glance at your television, you would be aghast, thinking Brian Williams had worn it two nights in a row. This one, however, is suitcoat navy with light blue stripes. Completely different! It's like rotini instead of fusilli; Hagen Dasz instead of Ben & Jerry's; lilac instead of lavender. Totally, entirely, thoroughly, and altogether different. Like night and day.
Brought to Life by Nance at 11:40 PM
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Straight from The Ward Cleaver Collection: Formal Wear, Brian knots up the suitcoat navy tie with creamy white stripes. It's a perfectly fine, serviceable tie, absolutely appropriate in virtually every tie-wearing situation. There is nothing wrong with it. No one at the wedding will lean over to her seatmate in the pew and whisper, eyebrows raised, anything about it in mock outrage. Great-Aunt Selma won't close her eyes and shake her head, frowning slightly, as she sits shiva next to it. Even Tim Gunn wouldn't object to it with a grey shawl collar half-zip, dark wash jeans, and navy or charcoal pinstriped shirt for a casual look. But I'd like to see something else, please.
Brought to Life by Nance at 11:38 PM
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Yippee! No stripes today! Instead, BriWi has chosen to preview Halloween by donning his Circus Fun Tie, the tomato red one with white polka dots the size of a pencil eraser tip. After The Nightly, he'll swing around on his swivel chair, revealing his enormous yellow shoes and go clomping off set to finish getting ready for the photo shoot. Once he pulls on a curly orange wig, bright lime-green jacket (two sizes too short), and purple balloon-style pants, the only thing left is the requisite round, red nose. Oh, that Brian! And here we thought The News was nothing to joke about!
Brought to Life by Nance at 10:21 PM
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
sans cravate ce soir. Opting for the outdoorsy and rugged look, Brian instead wears the layered look, somewhat sacrificing fashion with an olive drab, shapeless flak jackety sort of thing as he reports live from New Jersey. We are grateful, however, that it was not a cliché North Face or peacoat.
Monday, October 28, 2013
BriWi's tie this evening is the sedate and snappy suitcoat navy and milk white stripe. Monday mornings were the worst, he thought, as he stuffed brown bags and lunchboxes into backpacks. Re-entry Day. The day when The Machine revved back into life. It always felt like they had fifty kids instead of just four. He stood at the counter and slopped half-and-half into his coffee while he stood guard over breakfast, constantly checking his wristwatch. His wife flitted like a bird from child to child, squirting syrup, doling napkins, pouring juice. They both had a train to catch; they both had meetings; they both were "suits." They both had wanted a career and a family, and now they both wondered why.
Brought to Life by Nance at 11:55 PM