If Conrad Grayson has one thing going for him, it’s that he can pull off the one-button blazer look convincingly. The button is even gold and I still believe it. Naturally, I’m repulsed that he’s even wearing this 90s Wall Street era piece, but it’s a genuine repulsion which, as a writer, I’m comforted by.


Unbuttoned, it doesn’t look so bad. We’ll just add it to your ever-growing Wall of Shame, you bland, uninspired backdrop of a character. I don’t even know what’s going on here because I can’t take my eyes off Queen Vic’s ruffles. They’re so… ruffle-y.


Conrad did fit the bill for all the soapy dramz this week. His study was a perfect setting, too. Dark. Surrounded by windows. Brimming with brandy. And the double doors add the right amount of dramatic tension when it’s time to tell secrets!


But enough about that fool – ain’t nobody got time for that! Because we’re all clearly waiting for Nolan.


I have to say, I’m not in love with this sweater-shirt combo. I can appreciate a good winter sweater with the wacky gingerbread house print. There’s something about cold weather that suspends all you hold dear in terms of acceptable prints. But mixing with a checked shirt? I’m surprised at you, Nolan.

Oh, and this little number. A tracksuit jacket? With little to no collar to speak of? What the hell, dude? Is everything OK? Is there, I don’t know, something from your past that you’re trying to desperately conceal from Emily so it doesn’t blow up in your face and ruin everything?


Huh, look at that. A shotgun wielding aunt who just happens to be the one person who can exonerate David Clarke’s name and put Conrad behind bars. OK, I suppose I can forgive the whole track jacket thing.


There it is! For a minute, I thought winter would defeat Mr. Ross but he always manages to pull it together in the end. The sweater vest is fine, and I’m reassured with the popped collar, but it’s the pants y’all. Oh, those glorious pants. Brown and orange mixed in an almost seersucker fashion? Just take it to the bank, son. 


While Nolan hangs out on the bar, Jack and Declan have a serious “we’re kind of poor” moment since Charlotte’s threatened to cut off Dec’s school tuition. But who cares when your Rich Uncle Nolan can make a phone call to fix that? 


Umm by the way, the little hug Nolan gives Jack before leaving? Adorable. So adorable, in fact, that I’m pretty sure that’s a wistful smile Jack’s throwing down. Bromances are brewin’!


Hopefully Jack doesn’t get himself killed in the meantime. Like I said earlier, he’s pretty open about owning that bloody sweatshirt. And moving Tyler’s body. And when your only “witness” is the concussed guy who just got off for murder, I wouldn’t feel so secure. But at least Jack knows how to rock the winter look. No more hoodies as coats for you!