Birds, beasts, and bugs, anyone?  I used to wear more pictoral or thematic ties than I now do, and I must admit that I have a special place in my heart for ties with animals.  Birds, of course...  I live in a house ruled by a parrot, in a town blessed with swans that have taken on an iconic role in the life of the city, surrounded by lakes that are homes to  all kinds of water birds.  Just today, a neighbor said she saw a parrot flying freely in the neighborhood, and I've had to stop my car to allow a gang of geese (these were no gaggle, they were a gang of urban geese) to cross the street... not to get to the other side but to get to the lake.

I've taken off a day this week, and the ties have gotten a little out of sequence, but the tie for tomorrow (Domenico Franco Como, silk, Canada - a rare source of ties, it seems) is a joy, and so is the necktie for Friday the 27th (Meeting Street Handmade, Korea).  Yes, look closely.  Those are indeed Pink Flamingos. 

I'll finish up this zoological sampler with, of all things, insects.  For the 2nd, I'll show off an assortment of crawling and flying things (Puritan), and on the 3rd, I'll have some flies that arrange themselves as fly-shaped dots on a dark background (Robert Talbot, for The Men's Shop at the Broadmoor).  This last tie is 70% silk, 30% dacron polyester, while all the rest of these neckties are all silk. 

Does it go without saying that I've recently reread "The Metamorphosis"?  One of my best teaching experiences was teaching literature to a class full of U.S. Marines.  One of them wrote an essay after reading Kafka's haunting story in which he remarked on how the Corps (he was a career Marine) sometimes turned him into an insect.   

 Copyright © 2007 by Michael Segers, all rights reserved  

Typically, I don't have much to say about my ties with designer labels.  Enough said.  But, after recently slipping a favorite but offbeat word (bricolage) into the blog, I'm inclined to reach out for another old favorite.  In fact, I have a velleity to use the word velleity.  It has been so long since I have used this word that I was misspelling it, with just one letter l, not two.  Ah, what the l...?

A lot has been going on in the news, but, of course, you have read the news.  What you don't know is that a couple weeks ago, a friend asked me to accompany him on a drive to look at some property on the banks of the Withlacoochee.  We came to a place so thick with palmetto that I thought I could smell the rattlesnakes, but we neither saw nor heard such a thing.  An ophiophagous fat indigo snake could have explained that, but if the property did have a resident indigo, I might have tried to scrape up the money to become a landowner. 

We came back through Dade City, one of my favorite towns in this area.  There was a yearly antiques fair going on (which we had not known about), for the selling of serious things, not junque.  One dealer had an exhibit of paintings by the Florida Highwaymen.  Although I had heard of these folks, this was the first time I had seen their work "in person" or "in paint."  No indigo snakes were involved, by I seriously thought of making a purchase.

But, then, I heard a banjo.  In all the hustle of antiquers, I heard a banjo.  I could not have been caught any more thoroughly if the banjo player had tied his strings end to end, affixed on one end a large hook, wrapped in a Countess Mara necktie, and cast it into the crowd.  I followed the banjo, and a guitar joined it, then a voice, and another voice, and I saw a man and a woman singing not to the crowd, but to each other, so intimately that I felt almost ashamed to listen, ashamed to eavesdrop.  I thought they must be married, to sing so intently, to shut the rest of us out.  No, my inner cynic sneered.  If they were married, they couldn't make such beautiful music.

Devine and LaRoche are married... just not to each other.  Their CD (I did purchase something that day) covers a wide range of songs, by quite an assortment of songwriters, a strange mix of songs that showcases their voices, alone and twining in and out.  Their version of a song by John Prine that I had never heard of ("Unwed Fathers") makes me wish they would do a whole album of his songs.  They have the gentleness and the strength to do him justice.  It's amazing to me that there are musicians like these two who have plugged away at their craft and art for decades, not getting the attention they've earned.  And, then there is Sanjaya.  (No link.)

This past weekend, I stayed in Lakeland and took in the Seventh Annual Florida Outdoor Sculpture Show.  Since I've been trying to persuade a teacher to bring some visually-impaired students to this show, I tried to experience the sculpture with my eyes closed.  And, it was quite an experence.  Then, I went to the 70th Annual Orange Cup Regatta on our beautiful Lake Hollingsworth. 

As I stood there, an anhinga swooped down to a little cypress tree and spread its wings.  Some years ago, I was a student in a week-long seminar in which Joanna Macy was one of the facilitators.  When we took part in her exercise, "A Council of All Beings," I identified myself as Anhinga, also known as Water Turkey... or WT to friends.  For the rest of the week, I was called WT, sealing a special bond I feel with this odd water bird that is not waterproof.  And then (back in Lakeland), I looked to my left and saw the magnificent Frank Lloyd Wright buildings of Florida Southern College, the largest single site collection of FLW buildings in the world. 

The point of this rambling, with neckties left many paragraphs ago, is that in this wonderful area where I am fortunate enough to live, just a velleity is all it takes to find an adventure. 

      I love my Cocktail Collection ties, like the one I'll wear tomorrow (4-11).  They are well made silk ties with intriguing designs, all the more intriguing because they are based on electron microscopic photos of alcoholic beverages.  I remember when I once helped out a fellow undergrad by letting him do some sort of psychological evaluation of me.  He came up with the phrase, "plainclothes hippy."  Enough said, except, perhaps, "plainclothes wino."  (Cocktail Collection, Stongehenge, Wine, 100% silk).  For the next day (4-12), I'm a little more plain-spoken, with a plainer drink, and with a rather plain necktie with little beer-bottle-shaped dots.  All I know about this intriguing tie is contained on one label: "Designed for Grolsche Bierbrouwerijen | 80% zijde [silk] / 20% polyester."  Altogether now, 99 bottles of beer on the tie, 99 bottles of beer...  

     Cherchez la femme!  For Friday the 13th, I'll be lucky enough to wear a tie (Florenzi Collection, US, polyester, of all things) that seems an ironic but apt comment on the hackneyed French phrase.  Monday (4-16), I'll be wearing an homage to the great Ms. Boop, just about pushing the limits of family friendliness for this blog.  (NovelTies, © 1995 King Features syndcate, Inc. Fleischer Studios, Inc, US, polyester - probably the first time that two polyester ties in a row have been blogged here.)    

      We finish up this orgy with songs... and neckties, of course.  On 4-17, I'll wear one of my Beatles ties (The Beatles, © 1991, Apple Corps Limited, "Rocky Racoon," by the Beatles, Released 1968," silk).  For me, the greatest value is that 1991 was probably the worst year of my life, and I'm still here.  How can I follow that?  Well, how about a fantastic necktie that was one of the ones that convinced me to follow this curiously knotted path?  The labels explain the musical connection.  At first, I thought it might have somethng to do with Easter Island. (RM Style, "Pink Floyd, Division Bell Traditional, © 1994, Pink Floyd Music 1967, Ltd., Ralph Martin & Co., USA, silk") 

Copyright © 2007 by Michael Segers, all rights reserved

Those two ties with their simple, repeated pattern might seem to fit into the rigors of my Lenten devotions, but in fact, they are special and especially cherished by me, as I seek to return to my normal patterns of necktie wearing.  (No more striped ties here until next Lent.)

They are also special enough to be appropriate for a very pleasant job, to welcome a new Internet tie guy.  In fact, this one is a jacket and tie guy, doyen of The Great Coat and Tie Experiment (which I found through Burl Veneer's site).  This nameless gentleman puts together necktie, shirt, and jacket with studied nonchalance but a discomfort with the fine old Anglo-Saxon term outfit, preferring instead conglomeration.  Hmm...  I've heard the word outfit all my life, have no problems with it, but it set me thinking: what would I call what I wear?

Generally, I assume a shirt will be involved, for me at least, even here in central Florida.  (I sometimes feel like an escapee from one of Graham Greene's otherworldly, third-worldly tales).  Once, some years ago, living on the banks of the Alafia River, I noticed an elderly neighbor walking around in his yard, shirtless.  "Now, there's a true Floridian for you," said a friend who was with me.  The old gentleman walked on past the hedge, and we saw that he wasn't wearing any pants - or anything else, for that matter.  I decided that sometimes it is best not to go too native.

Anyway, at least a shirt, a necktie if I'm going to work (even on "casual Friday" - so many ties, so little time), and a jacket only if the weather demands (not very often down here).  If I put together a Perry Ellis shirt, a Countess Mara tie, and an authentic Harris tweed jacket, the three items (accumulated at three different thrift shops) having cost less than ten dollars altogether,  what do I call it?  If oufit isn't appropriate, I suppose ensemble doesn't stand a chance.

It is time for one of my favorite words, a word I've known for some thirty years and probably haven't been able to use once a year, so here goes: bricolage.  I'm trying to imagine: "Oh, this old bricolage..."  I should explain that language is very important in my work for people who are visually impaired.  (Here is a great article about the power of words.)

Now, at last, we get to those two lovely ties, worn to welcome a new Internet tie guy, to get back to neckties that are really fun to wear, and to honor the friend who gave me these two (among about a dozen ties altogether).  Both of them bear the Hermès label, but both of them (as well as several others which will grace this blog later) are, I believe, counterfeits.  (Here is the reason - great information.)

This is not some mumbled confession.  The only thing I have to confess is that I shall wear these "Hermès" ties with more pride and pleasure than I would wear the real thing.  Anyone with more money than sense can wear a real Hermès tie (about $150 bucks each, although I have one that I found in a thrift shop for under three dollars).  But, these ties mean so much more.

Their story begins in some Asian city (by the way, they have labels "Made in Korea"), Singapore or Hong Kong, I believe.  A flight attendant from the United States purchased them for friends back in the states.  Now, pardon a little Greene (or Maugham) fantasy.  But, I imagine the White Goddess (she was from the United States, she had money; even if she were African-American, she would have been a White Goddess) sneaking down dark, smelly alleys, perhaps breaking a high heel (of course, she was wearing high heels) on the cobblestones, knocking on an unmarked door, whispering a password (absinthe? avatar?), and then climbing steep, creaking steps, passing through an opium den, and being greeted by a rather Peter-Lorre type.  Selecting a key on a ribbon around his neck, he would unlock a safe and remove trays of... neckties!  "Ahh, yes, Madam... I have something that has just come in... from the finest Parisian shops."

Then, after she made her purchases and retraced her steps (somehow - this is a fantasy - the heel got reattached, or maybe she bought herself a pair of "Manolo Blahnik" shoes for about ten bucks), flew back to the States, and presented the neckties with winks and nudges all around.  Then, my friend retired to Florida, where he leads an almost necktieless life, and so, he passed these on to me.

You can't buy that for a mere $150.  Thanks, Clark.

Just when I thought that neckties could not sink any lower in popular esteem, the other day, I was eagerly shopping for them at a favorite shop (you know what kind), when a woman asked me if I planned to dye Easter eggs.  When I replied with a negative that expressed curiosity, she told me that people are using old neckties to dye Easter eggs.  That adds a new meaning to the term "tie dye."

So, now I close with the wish that you are having a happy Easter.  Down here, in Greene-land, it is chilly, outright cold by our standards, so when I join some friends for Easter lunch, no necktie will be worn, but a Harris tweed jacket shall be. 

Copyright © 2007 by Michael Segers, all rights reserved