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.