Tuesday, May 31, 2011
I am ambivalent about this cravat, its navy blue field, its raspberry sherbet stripes dribbling down brightly and invitingly. There's nothing egregious about it, and it's summery and almost pretty. But because the blue is rather somber, the pink looks shocking and wanders into tacky territory. It's sort of like strolling past a buffet laden with treats like lobster, brie en croute, and pâté and finding salami rollups and Velveeta.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Brian Williams, channelling Ward Cleaver and a little bit of Mr. Rogers, knots up a tie of Play-doh blue with a busy, red, stripey thing happening in there that managed to make this one of the most pedestrian ties ever worn in the New Millennium. It's like this poor tie, worn by a brilliant but reckless corporate-funded scientist working feverishly in his lab in 1954, got stuck in the hinges of his time machine. As the scientist set the coordinates to 2011, the machine began to vibrate menacingly and acrid smoke billowed out. As the experimentor clambered out to discover the problem, his cravat caught upon the door. Loosening the knot, he sacrificed the silk accoutrement and, when he finally stopped the device and looked inside, the tie was gone. Only to reappear on the back of Brian Williams' chair at The Nightly News Desk.
Brought to Life by Nance at 9:19 PM
Friday, May 13, 2011
This evening, Brian Williams knots up a chic and mysterious tie, narrow stripes of smoky lavender and charcoal. Your cell phone buzzes, and you pick up. "Meet me in Lilacia Park," your source says sotto voce. "I'll be right at the entrance, just inside. Eight thirty. Don't be late." A lifelong Chicago girl, you have no qualms about grabbing the train to Lombard for the assignation. This story could make your career. The darkness has just begun to envelop the park and the springtime scent of the lilacs is wafting out around you. It's lovely and purple. But now, and for the rest of your life, it will be the aroma of excitement and scandal.
Brought to Life by Nance at 8:39 PM
Thursday, May 12, 2011
A field of deep turquoise is crossed by slim bands of sky blue bordered in luminous white. This tie is pleasant, but innocuous and safe in the Fashion Sense. It's the Guy Friend who you can go out with and not make your boyfriend the least bit jealous. It's the angel food cake with fresh fruit for dessert. And it's getting the three-inch high heels, but in black instead of red.
Brought to Life by Nance at 7:36 PM
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
This evening Brian Williams dons a cravat of slim black stripes alternating with burnished gold, the latter bisected by a thread of the contrasting onyx. Quietly, solicitously, the jeweller proffers another velvet case. He carefully slides open the sable top and reveals row upon row of gold herringbone necklaces. It is as if the pharoahs and queens of Egypt, one by one, had unburdened their necks before stepping into their sarcophagi for the ages.
Brought to Life by Nance at 9:23 PM
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Now he's just hurting my feelings. First, there was yesterday's flagrant repeat of the 5 May tie, and then today, the Candy Cane/Popcorn Box/Circus Tie worn en ensemble with what can only be described as a Studied Disregard For Fashion Sensibility. How can anyone think, even for one fleeting moment, that a cravat striped with red, crimson, and white can be worn with a pale blue, white-collared shirt and black suit jacket? Except, perhaps, on a dare or upon awakening from a ten-day drunk? I worry that Someone is taking fashion advice from (say it isn't so!) The Before David Gregory.
Brought to Life by Nance at 8:17 PM
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Brian Williams commemorates his birthday with a decorous stripe of pearl and onyx, impeccably knotted. Its colouring is, perhaps, a sort of salute to The History of Journalism, a celebration of newspapers and the great trailblazing broadcasters of black and white television like Edward R. Murrow, Walter Cronkite, and Huntley & Brinkley.
Brought to Life by Nance at 7:13 PM