That Dashing Item

I rest up high where collars meet,
a tidy knot that looks so neat.
No long tail dangles down below,
Perfectly balanced for me to show.

I turn plain shirts to something fine,
add flair for dinners, dates and wine.
Waiters wear me every day,
serving smiles along the way.

Grooms choose me on wedding day.
black and crisp even when far away.
Schoolboys tug me straight and tight,
looking proper, "Oh, so right."

I can be bright with polka dots,
stripes or colors, lots and lots.
Velvet, silk or cotton too,
A lot of options for me and you.

I’m often given as a gift,
wrapped with care for one you lift.
Small and simple, yet I shine,
making your outfit, "Oh, so fine."

From old photos to today’s scene,
I stay forever crisp and clean.
Timeless, modest, always there,
a gentleman’s accent, really fair.

I am this thing, you untie and throw.
The one that sits where collars go.
Loop to loop, and then a sigh.
Can you tell me, what am I?