Monday, December 23, 2013

For Your Viewing Pleasure

Brian Williams knots up a tie of brilliant cardinal red with sky blue stripes for our viewing pleasure.  Cara was breathless as Father Christmas (really, Uncle Morris) pulled the largest box from under the tree.  Finally!  She would finally be able to discover who this huge gift was for!  Her heart pounded as he turned and gave it to her.  Could it really be hers?  Her fingers flew to unwrap it, remembering always Mamma's admonitions to be ladylike even though she wanted to tear into it like a beast.  She opened the lid, pushed aside the gossamer papers, and lifted out what seemed like miles and miles of plush red velvet.  It was a cape, a gorgeous, beautiful cape with a hood.  Suddenly, a glimpse of baby blue satin--the lining.  Cara could have wept.  "It is only for buggy riding and walking on fairer days," Mamma said.  "Velvet is not practical, for it is difficult to clean.  But every girl should have something lovely and a little impractical."

Thursday, December 19, 2013

On Pink

This cravat is a classic for Brian.  He has been wearing it for years and years, and while I like it just fine, I am tired of seeing it worn to the exclusion of many other lovely ties he wears much less frequently.  The main colour is a deep midnight blue, and the slim stripes are pale pink--not a warm, baby pink--a blue-toned carnation pink, widely spaced.  I immediately applaud men in pink, no matter how scant its appearance.  More men ought to wear it, and more often.  Here we are, in a whole new millennium, and so many people still see pink as a "Girl's Colour."  How utterly ridiculous.  Women wear blue with impunity.  Shall we all just get over it?  Let's do, and quickly.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Too Soon

Have we seen this tie before, Readers?  I cannot recall it.  In any case, it's purple and white checkered presence was a little Springlike to me.  It looked more suited to a tablecloth in a vegan restaurant, or napkins in a winery bistro, or even, perhaps, lovely cushions for your white wicker porch furniture.  A dark suit cannot ground this tie; it is too buoyant and light.  December's cold and dim days make it seem terribly out of place.  Better to lay it safely away until at least April or May when the clouds are wispy and lacy, and the air is warming a few green things.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Christmas Schooner

Tonight's cravat is suitcoat navy with steep diagonals of forest green.  He looked in the rearview mirror and smiled.  The kids were leaned way over sideways, looking at the Christmas tree on top of the car, through the sunroof.  If they hadn't been firmly belted into their carseats, they'd be lying down, he knew.  The sky was quickly accumulating dark grey clouds, and the deep blue was fast turning dark.  Soon it would be snowing.  In the meantime, though, Jasper and Hannah could watch their evergreen sail through an ocean of sky, cutting the depths and speeding toward the horizon.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Villainous Tie

This tie gives me a headache.  Its purple dots are so minuscule and shiny, and its field colour is so changeable (is it grey? taupe? lavender? graupender?) and opalescent that at times it appears to be moving and buzzing.  The cleft of its dimple is unhelpful; it merely creates a shadowy ravine for the dancing pattern to encircle and descend into and up from.  Now look--it's made me end a sentence with two prepositions.  Horrific thing.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Maybe Bri Is Jet-Lagged, And He Grabbed The First Tie Off The Donation Box In The Hallway

SPT.  Purlap tie.  And wow; that big cavernous dimple is sorta freaking us out.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013


Brian Williams is still in South Africa, reporting on the death of Nelson Mandela.  He wears a charcoal grey tie striped with bright yellow diagonals.  There had not been a car or truck or motorcycle or any sort of vehicle whatsoever down the road in hours.  He wasn't all that surprised; it was, after all, a tiny country with only a relative few vehicles anyhow.  Add to that the late hour, and he knew he had to find a spot to spend the night.  "Poor planning, poor execution," he said out loud to no one but himself, just to hear the sound of something in the darkness.  He veered away from the roadside into a cleared area where a beaten-down shack leaned.  It was useless to try to gather anything for a fire.  It was already warm, and there wasn't anything around to burn.  He chuckled when he thought of the three boxes of matches in his backpack. "What for?" he said aloud.  "What for?"  He took out a box, slid it open, and grabbed a match.  He struck it expertly on the side of the box and a flame jumped to life.  Holding the match, he watched it glow yellow and burn down to his fingers, fascinated.  He took out another and did the same thing, then another and another, watching them all burn bright in the deep dark night.

Monday, December 9, 2013

The Small Delight

Oh, we do love this striped tie of mahogany and gold shot through with tiny threads.  She was blind now, but it was impossible to tell.  She knew the interior of her home so well that she navigated it expertly, even without a cane.  Her appetite was scant, and there was little left of her but her brown skin stretched over old bones, taut and smooth.  Guests delighted but tired her, so he was careful to stay only a little while.  This time, he brought her a pound of her favourite chocolates in a box.  She was confused at first and, lifting it to her nose, suddenly smiled in recognition and joy.  Quickly lifting the lid, her fingers then prowled among the candies until they found one wrapped in golden foil.  It was swiftly unwrapped, popped in the mouth, and her face showed deep satisfaction.  After a profound sigh of contentment, she smiled.  "You," she told him pointedly, "can come anytime."

Thursday, December 5, 2013

You'll Never Guess What I Saw

As usual there are stripes tonight, but this tie is a rarity for its mossy green diagonals partnered with navy.  Green is an uncommon sight in a Brian Williams cravat, like a peacock on the roadside, or a cheeseburger at a cocktail party.  Certainly it could happen, and perhaps once or twice it has, but it is still occasion enough to cause comment.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

An Evening At The Embers

Impeccably knotted, tonight's cravat is a silky stripe of rich cream and smoky navy stripes.  He sat in the shadowy booth alone and watched her at the bar.  Her posture on the stool was somehow studied and casual at the same time.  She was drinking White Russians and her motion was balletic; the way she lifted the glass, tilted it to take a sip, moved the straw aside with one finger, and set it down without a sound.  Every so often she would pull her long, dark hair back and to one side with a quick, mystifying gesture involving her hand, only a couple of fingers, and a beautiful turn of her wrist ending with a brief moment in which she looked like she was going to beckon him to come to her.  But no; instead she would drop it to her bodice or her hip, smooth her blue silk sheath, and thoughtfully take another sip.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

It's So Purple, So Very, Very Purple


Monday, December 2, 2013

In Her Element

We're back from our petite vacance and ready again to report, this time on Bri's cravat of faded denim with smudgy polka dots of campfire ash.  She sighed when she saw the next stop on her list.  She didn't dread seeing Maggie, but it tugged at her in the most distressing way.  Maggie's tiny apartment was cramped and full of dust and junk.  It reeked viciously of the unfiltered cigarettes she smoked, and every surface had either burn marks, small logs of ash where a cigarette had been left to burn, or a grey smudge where she had ground one out.  She answered the door with a brilliant smile, always wearing the same enormous pair of Wrangler overalls and a sweatshirt with puffy painted cardinals underneath.  Taking the styrofoam container, she would say thank you effusively, add a few God Bless Yous, and disappear back into her disarray.