Thursday, June 27, 2013


Oh no, Brian Williams.  No.  This tie...this garish...thing.  Upon first glance it appears to be a minuscule pattern of vivid red-violet and ash-coloured houndstooth, shimmering and glimmering like some sort of mercurial, Dali-esque disco ball.  But on closer inspection, one can discern that this is a trick of the fabric.  This is, in fact, a Solid Purple Tie!  It is only the contrasting basketweave of the cloth that causes this trompe l'oeil.  After all that, after all is said and done, whether it be SP or teeny-tiny checks, nothing can save this disturbing cravat.  It is, in a word, gauche.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

The Clash

This evening's cravat is the posh-looking one of midnight with both slender and pinbone metallic gold stripes.  Her shop was dark when he dropped by an hour before closing time, which was odd.  Looking more carefully, he saw the big light in the back room blazing away.  He sent her a text to let her know he was outside, and soon he heard her scurrying to the door to let him in.  "I'm working on my outfit for the benefit Saturday," she said.  "I have just about two hours of finishing left."  He followed her back to see a black fitted suit with cigarette-leg pants.  The jacket was a dramatic cutaway, its bottom a peplum that flowed almost floor-length in the back.  To this suit she had begun applying thin herringbone chains of faux gold along the seams and the hem of the peplum.  His face fell.  Why could she never wear a simple evening dress?  Perhaps this was just not working after all.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

A Lovely Surprise

Brian is back from une grande vacance, yet I am uninspired by his neckwear to date.  Tonight he chooses yet again from his stable of tried and true striped ties which are perfectly fine, but wholly lacking in imagination and freshness.  This time it is the deep royal blue and creamy white striper.  She had chosen a pretty sundress of white eyelet cotton for their Surprise Date.  What do you wear for something like that? she wondered.  She knew she could take her cue from whatever he was wearing when he showed up at her door.  And when he did, and she saw a sportcoat and French jeans, she knew it was going to be lovely...and special...and perfect.  She lifted her light wrap from the back of the chair and danced out the door.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

No Big Deal

Tonight Bri ties on an innocuous cravat of brilliant blue with pairs of slender cherry stripes at wide intervals.  Despite its vivid colour, it is a pedestrian tie.  It's like when your teacher, who has been wearing a uniform of grey, black, and khaki all semester suddenly breaks out with a fuchsia sweater.  "You look nice today, Miss Penfair," you say.  But it's still Miss Penfair, and you still get out a half-sheet of paper and a pen or pencil for the daily bell quiz.

Monday, June 17, 2013

Making A Break

Brian returns from his vacation sporting a tie well known to Report readers.  This deep navy cravat with slim stripes of blush pink has been around for quite some time.  It had been a terrible night.  Most of the wedding party was drunk, disorderly--completely out of control.  He alone was sober.  He and the flower girl.  And she was his concern now.  She was sleepy and little and both of them had had enough.  He lifted her from her seat at the table where she had been sitting, her head down on a little pad of napkins.  "Let's go, Betsey," he said.  She looked relieved, exhausted, and ready.  Laying her fevered cheek against his shoulder, she closed her eyes and slept as he carried her out to the limo.  "We're leaving," he told the stunned driver.  "Come back for the rest later."

Thursday, June 6, 2013

While BriWi's Away, The Report Doth Play

Sadly, I noticed the Preponderance Of Purple immediately.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Destiny Averted

Oh, Brian Williams.  How I wish this tie would have a Terrible Accident.  I feel like it's just not Your Style.  Those bright blue and white micro-checks, little medallions of pink blobby thingamajigs...I've developed such antipathy toward it.  This fabric is not Brian Williams Tie Worthy.  Its destiny was to be a tablecloth in a homestyle food diner called The Robin.  Or perhaps it was to be little cafĂ© curtains in a place that serves Southern Style Comfort Food Like Mama Used To Make.  Maybe it was supposed to be a frilly bib-apron uniform in a chain restaurant that has franchises all over the country's toll roads.  A countrified place where the food is stick-to-your-ribs fare, and the waitresses all call you "hon."  That is what this tie was meant to be, not an accoutrement around the neck of America's Most Trusted News Source.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Renaissance Man

One of his more sophisticated and sedate stripers is the choice of Brian Williams tonight.  The plum is dusky and somber, and the stripes are soft charcoal.  She sat on the back steps of the cabin and watched him spread out the coals in the grill.  He did all outdoorsy things well, and he looked at home up here on the mountain.  She refilled her wineglass and asked again if there was anything she should be doing.  He shook his head and took out a huge slab of sinister-looking meat.  As he laid it on the grill, she asked what it was.  "Venison," he said.  "Shot it myself.  This is marinated in some dry red wine, garlic, balsamic, olive oil, and shallots.  You'll like it, I promise." 

Monday, June 3, 2013


This evening Brian wears a cravat of creamy white and ink blue.  She sighed and tore the top off her container of low fat yoghurt.  Who were these people who said that grabbing a cup of yoghurt when you craved ice cream was a good idea?  Because it wasn't.  It wasn't at all.  Moodily, she dipped her spoon into the swirls of blueberry fruit, staring at the mixture.  She had been overweight her whole life.  Her whole life!  It was the first thing she thought of in the morning and the last thing she thought of at night and it shadowed every single thought in between.  She would rather have cancer.  At least people would care and try to understand.  And with cancer, she'd finally lose weight.