"You appeared to read a good deal upon her which was quite invisible to me," I remarked.
"Not invisible but unnoticed, Watson. You did not know where to look, and so you missed all that was important. I can never bring you to realize the importance of sleeves, the suggestiveness of thumb-nails, or the great issues that may hang from a boot-lace. Now, what did you gather from that woman's appearance? Describe it."
"Well, she had a slate-coloured, broad-brimmed straw hat, with a feather of a brickish red. Her jacket was black, with black beads sewn upon it, and a fringe of little black jet ornaments. Her dress was brown, rather darker than coffee colour, with a little purple plush at the neck and sleeves. Her gloves were greyish and were worn through at the right forefinger. Her boots I didn't observe. She had small round, hanging gold ear-rings, and a general air of being fairly well to do in a vulgar, comfortable, easy-going way."
Sherlock Holmes clapped his hands softly together and chuckled. " 'Pon my word, Watson, you are coming along wonderfully. You have really done very well indeed. It is true that you have missed everything of importance, but you have hit upon the method, and you have a quick eye for colour. Never trust to general impressions, my boy, but concentrate yourself upon details."
Arthur Conan Doyle, A Case of Identity
one. COS lace bra (thanks Talisa!)
two. BRVTVS necklace with three tiny oxidised beads.
three. Urban outfitters lace bra.
four. small change, left over from Hong Kong.
five. the tiniest whispers of gold, catbird threadbare rings.
six. Carine Roitfeld when she was small, from her tome, Irreverent.
How good is Sherlock? Laying aside the adorable Holmes/Watson bromance - better than in the recent RDJ movies - and even the fact that I am hopelessly sherlocked on Benedict Cumberbatch, it's just a fantastic modern appropriation of what is the quintessential murder mystery narrative. How much do we all owe Sherlock Holmes? Without it, there would be no Law and Order, no NCIS, no Castle. There wouldn't even be street style photographers, yes that's right, the professionals who "never trust to general impressions" and who "concentrate on the details". For all this, we owe a debt of gratitude to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
I've always liked the small details best. I'm not as good a noticer/listener/general pest as Sherlock, but I am a bit of a people watcher. Just a little. I like to notice small details. Maybe I'm not watching so closely as to notice lacy underwear - but these are two beautiful little bra-lets that I've picked up recently, the first Talisa brought back all the way from Paris for me, the wonderful COS number that I always use in my polyvore sets and another from New York. Some more delicate jewellery - three tiny little beads on a BRVTVS necklace and a few Catbird threadbare rings, still as gorgeous as ever. Those Hong Kong coins are the remnants of my holiday money... where did it all go? Where did it all go? And I love this picture of Carine Roitfeld with her father in Irreverent. I love the way that she describes him, "he wasn't my father, he was a god". That's no small way to talk about someone. The best thing, seriously, the best thing, is when you have just the right words to say what you want to say. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
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