Monday, April 30, 2012

Under The Table At Corporate

Brian Williams knots up the oft-seen cravat of deep navy with narrow blush pink stripes.  It had been an interminably long meeting this time, and she couldn't stand these people to begin with.  Look at all of them, like sad, dark Puritans in their somber suits.  She wasn't much better, she knew, in her own jacket and skirt.  Sighing, she eased out of her pumps under the conference table, flexing her toes.  Her feet hurt, and she knew taking her shoes off was a mistake. Just then, she heard it--the clatter of his reading glasses next to her.  As he bent low to retrieve them, she froze.  Was that a...touch?

Wednesday, April 25, 2012


Rich mahogany and woven gold stripes harmonize in this evening's cravat. Lingering over brunch today, their last day at the hotel, they savoured the thick Egyptian coffee and devoured the syrupy cakes, redolent with cinnamon.  Holding hands across the table, they watched the sunlight reflect off their wedding bands and throw glimmers of light onto the wall beside them. 

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Elegant Precision

Brian is the picture of elegant precision in tonight's cravat of generous stripes alternating suitcoat navy and creamy white.  This tie is the table at the manor house, laid for dinner with the family silver by white-gloved hands.  It is the snapped salute performed in perfect unison by the regiment, and the impeccable lines of an architect's blueprint.

Friday, April 20, 2012


Tonight's offering is one of deep azure tiled with soft raspberry squares.  He walked on through the galleries blindly, Cezannes blending into Degas into Picassos until everything was a muted palette wavering before him.  She had told him goodbye so clearly, so dispassionately, so cleanly.  Unable to think, to understand, he struggled to even find the exit.  In the silence of the museum, his heart seemed very loud.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Let's Not Get Carried Away

SPT. I was originally going to write a fanciful vignette about a little backwoods gal helping Pappy Sam strain his elderberry wine through some burlap, but in the final analysis, this is, despite its textured fabric, a Solid Purple Tie. Certainly it's a cut above some of BW's other horrors in that category, but let's not encourage him, shall we?

Monday, April 16, 2012


This evening's cravat is a somber striper of lush aubergine and ebony.  It is the mournful, low note of the oboe, the ponderous slide of the stone into place on a new grave, and the chill of Dusk as she settles her purple cloak upon the horizon left abandoned by Day.

Friday, April 13, 2012

I Mean, It's Been More Than Five Years Now

Oh, Brian.  This jet navy and tangerine striped tie.  I am so conflicted about it.  I laud it, then I loathe it, then it barely blips my radar.  Brian, this tie is the socks on the floor of our marriage.  Early on, when the blush of Marriage is new, the wife smiles and shakes her head, picks up the husband's socks, and thinks, "Oh! Here I am, doing A Wife Thing already! Picking up after my Husband!" She's a little excited, maybe even calls a married friend or her mom to commiserate.  But after a few years of marriage and picking up smelly sweatsocks, it's not so novel, not so cute.  She thinks, "I'm not his mother or his maid!  How many times is he going to leave these damned socks on the floor?  I've had it!"  Finally, when she sees he isn't going to change, that he's going to leave his socks on the floor no matter what, that picking them up has become part of her normal routine anymore and simply not worth it, she barely notices them in the docket of Things She Does Every Day.  Which reminds me, Brian.  You missed Our Anniversary.  Again.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

I Have The Blues, Too

We are under the weather at present, so The Report begs your indulgence as we burrow into our Archives and present this slightly edited Classic Cravat Critique from 1 December 2009, when he also wore this lovely tie:

Brian [continues] the month with the blues--stripes, that is--of creamy sky and deep turquoise. This tie is decidedly pretty. Its fabric should be the awning of a tony Manhattan baby store called Baby Boy-tique which caters exclusively to the mumsies and popsies (or nannies, as the case may be) of male infants.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

What Does It Make You Think Of?

"And, for our final tribute tonight, me and Pack 1031 would like to call up Julius Hensmacker.  Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Hensmacker, at the age of 97, is Pepperidge Corners' oldest Cubmaster.  Tonight marks his retirement, we are sad to say.  I know I learned a lot from Mr. Hensmacker when I was a Webelo, and before his four surgeries and winters in Florida with his daughter, I know the boys here did, too.  So, me and the Scouts here, we built him this custom-made cart for his oxygen tanks, and also got him this tie which, as you all can see, is regulation Cubscouts colors--navy blue with the stripes in yellow.  That way, whether he's in church, at a funer--um, or, um, out to dinner at a fancy place like Olive Garden, he can always be in uniform!"

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

And Here I Was Hoping Bri's Hiatus Was All About Purging L'Armoire De Cravates

SPT. And, is it just me, or is That Thing below the knot getting bigger?

Monday, April 2, 2012

Pretty In Pink

Tonight's lovely striper is of cranberry and creamy rose, and the narrow diagonals are tactile and textured in this sweetly springlike tie.  It is strawberry pie and pink lemonade.  It is Grandmother holding the hand of her little granddaughter on their way out of church.  Both in their Easter finery, the little one skips along, her frilly dress frothing about like bubbles on a drugstore soda while the elder, sedate but smiling, bends like a peony in the breeze.