Thursday, February 28, 2013

Reluctance

Brian Williams reprises the crayon blue with grey polka dots this evening.  Grasping the child's hand, she led him to the cloakroom and helped him with his raincoat and rubber boots.  He was so obedient, so willing, and so uncomplaining always.  His blue eyes looked enormous and trusting, and she explained that he would be leaving early today.  She led him to the front doors where the long dark town car was waiting.  The chauffeur came out, nodded, and she walked him to the vehicle.  He looked back tearfully and waved, once.  She smiled, heartbroken.  The car swallowed him up and pulled away.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Joy In The Mornings

It's been a good long while since viewers of The Nightly have seen this tie, the periwinkle silk sprinkled with impossibly tiny white windows framed in ebony.  She opened her eyes drowsily and looked at the clock.  Smiling, she stretched luxuriously, then walked to the window and opened the curtains wide.  Outside, the sky was brilliantly blue, gorgeous and clear.  She laughed and looked across the horizon at the tall buildings, buildings full of people at desks, on the phone, at computers, sitting in meetings, endless meetings full of numbers and charts and reports.  She was done with all of that.  Forever done, and it felt wonderful.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Top Secret

This tie is a texture-y affair of deep purple surmounted by startlingly white Swiss dots in a grid pattern.  But instead of the polka dots giving it a lighthearted and happy ambiance, it imparts instead a briskness and cool efficiency.  One thinks of blueprints or huge Department of Defense electronic maps, each continent holding pinpricks of white, barely blinking lights that signify, oh, maybe a nuclear warhead silo or a US military outpost or the presence of perhaps a dangerous dissident.  Classified, you understand.  Your eyes only.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Night Walk

This evening Brian adorns himself with a cravat of wide blush lilac and midnight sky stripes.  Despite the setting sun, the day's heat still lay heavy.  The walk no longer seemed like a good idea, and sweat made dirty smears on his forehead.  As night descended, he came upon a darkened grove at the edge of the property.  A pale glow appeared through the branches; he heard the plashing of water.  Hurrying his pace, he soon came to a clearing in the trees and saw her, illuminated by the glow of a small lantern, her black hair lying wetly against her neck, her shoulders bare and rising out of the dark pool.

Friday, February 22, 2013

So. Much. Purple.

SPT.  Not only is this an Unprecedented Back-to-Back wearing of a Solid Purple, but this one is home to that Thing Which Dwells Beneath The Knot.  Horrid.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Yawn

SPT.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Just The Dessert Menu, Please, And Some Champagne

BriWi is in the pink tonight with a striped, cable-textured cravat of icy rose and berry.  This tie makes me think of parfaits and Valentine desserts.  It's a strawberry milkshake made at a soda fountain, the dark berries visible inside the cold, pink concoction.  It's what is left on your plate after a cheesecake with raspberry coulis and fresh whipped cream, all berries and cream and swirls and smears and mmmmmm.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

A Lot Of Bother (And Blather) For Not A Lot Of Tie

This tie tonight is a plummy, tweedy affair that I just can't get off the fence about.  Sometimes I look at it and I think, "Maybe I'll write a wry little ditty about Penny Sue, the just-hitched wife who wanted to give her husband a fancy new necktie and so she used some grape Kool-Aid and a tater sack."  Other times I think, "This is the tailcoat of Willy Wonka or the trombone player's jacket from a swing band."  Still others, I think, "Feh. SPT. And that texturing isn't gonna save it."

Monday, February 18, 2013

Just Settle Down

Brian Williams gives the stripes a rest and instead dons a tie of true blue with slate grey polka dots.  The colors are sedate and sober enough to dispel any aura of frivolity, like having an etiquette lesson instead of a clown at a child's birthday party.  It's like opening a small jewelry-shaped box, but finding a coupon for a month's free carwashes instead.  Both are useful and even nice, but they just aren't fun.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

If You Want To Celebrate, That's Fine; Just Don't Expect It From Your Newsman

There is no Valentine falderal for the serious newsman this evening.  If you expected to tune in and see a red tie or a pink tie or--heaven forbid!--a Theme Tie with hearts, you can forget it!  Brian Williams cannot be bothered with such truck.  No sir!  No madam!  Many goshdarn serious things have occurred in the world, and to inform the viewers in what has become a Sacred Trust whilst wearing a silly Holiday Tie would be frivolous and unseemly.  Delivering the News of the Day demands a solid, trustworthy tie, and that is what we got:  mature navy blue and tastefully fashionable bittersweet stripes. 

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

After A Trip To The Craft Store And The Bar...

As we here at The Report take care of some Other Business, please enjoy this Classic Cravat Critique from 24 October 2011 for this evening's tie:

Tonight, Brian's tie is so complex and intricate that I almost had to make a small diagram in order to explicate it.  (Thanks a lot, HDTV.) Brilliant summersky blue is overlaid by broad bands of black meshwork, then further interrupted by platinum stripes shot through with narrow ribbons of lavender.  This cravat was, in a word, worky. And all over the place. It had too much going on. It reminds me of those Saloon Girl Outfits, you know? Those things have satin and lace and ruffles and lacings and corseting and decolletage and a peplum and a bustle and fishnet stockings and short boots and holy crap, it's like the dressmaker discovered margaritas and velcro in the same night, you know?

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Still Beauty

This evening Brian Williams favours us with a striped cravat of deep navy and smoky plum.  That he would never see her again after today was unfathomable.  The kind words of the interminable procession of friends, family, and acquaintances meant nothing--no--less than nothing to him.  Why were they there?  Why could he not be alone with his grief?  He looked out into the sea of mourners in their dark, respectful clothes and silently screamed at all of them to leave, just go home.  He turned back to the casket where she lay quietly, so awfully quietly, the amethyst brooch he gave her for her birthday pinned at her waist.  As he beheld her still beauty, the amethyst began to imperceptibly swirl, then brighten. 

Thursday, February 7, 2013

We Were Due

SPT.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Remnants

For this night's broadcast, Brian chooses the stripe of lavender and nightsky.  The flame of his candle lighted the way down the narrow passage to the tiny room.  This part of the house had long been shut up, Mrs. Parks told him, but still he had insisted upon seeing it.  He drew forth the key and unlocked the door, stepping into the chamber.  In the now-flickering light, the shrouded forms of furniture looked ghostly and macabre.  He caught his breath, gasping.  How could this be?  The scent of lilacs bloomed in the room, filling it to every corner.  It was as if a vase full of the flowers stood on every surface, every table and mantelpiece.  He reached out, grabbed the bedpost for support, and tried to steady his emotions.  It was impossible, he knew. 

Monday, February 4, 2013

Dreaming

This evening's cravat was cinnamon silk with clustered pinstripes of metallic gold.  It was always the same dream, always.  She was in a marketplace of some kind, and it was hot, hot and dry and dusty, but there was a wind blowing.  It lifted the flaps of the brightly colored stalls that surrounded her, each one selling odd and exotic things.  There were fruits, some cut open and tantalizingly leaking juices.  She saw vessels of all shapes and sizes, some of gold and silver, some of earthenware.  As she walked, she saw a dark-haired woman suddenly at the end of her path, beckoning her.  The beauty wore a sari and many veils; only her kohled eyes and jeweled forehead were visible.  The wind blew harder and hotter; the woman appeared nearer.  A braceleted hand appeared from beneath the veils and held out a small urn.