Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant detective, a champion of
justice, and a master of disguise.
But a fashionista? I think
one might make a good ‘case’ that Mr. Holmes was far more clothing conscious
than one might initially imagine.
Holmes makes deductions from attire in virtually every
adventure in the canon. Holmes’ sharp eyes constantly pick out inky shirt cuffs, stained
trouser knees, and wrinkles in sleeves. He uses these seeming trivial
details as a key to unlocking secrets about his clients and his
adversaries. But there’s one
particular moment in ‘The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle’ that leads me to
deduce that Holmes may have cared much more about personal fashion than he was
willing to confess, even to Dr. Watson.
If you’ve never read ‘The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle,’
you should. (Actually, you should
read all four of the original novels and all fifty-six of the short stories. Everyone needs Sherlock Holmes in his life!) But here’s a
teaser for it: it is two days after Christmas and Dr. Watson (who no longer
resides at 221 B Baker Street) stops by for a holiday visit. Sherlock Holmes is busily examining a
battered felt hat, and explains to Watson that the hat belongs to a man who ran away after he was
involved in a late-night altercation on Christmas Eve. An official who witnessed the fray brought
the hat to Holmes and took the other trophy of the melee (a Christmas goose)
home for himself. Watson opines
that there is very little Holmes can earn about the unknown man just from his
hat. Holmes proceeds to
demonstrate, in a tour de force of deduction, that he has indeed learned a
great deal of things about the mystery man from his hat. His sequence of observations and
deductions are among the most famous in the canon, fiercely debated and
discussed by Sherlockian scholars.
In one line, Holmes seems to reveal that he is thinking more like
a fashionista than a detective.
He tells Watson that the man was once prosperous, but over the last
three years the man has fallen upon hard times. Watson is unconvinced.
Holmes explains:
"This hat is three years old. These flat brims curled at the edge
came in then. It is a hat of the very best quality. Look at the band of ribbed
silk and the excellent lining. If this man could afford to buy so expensive a
hat three years ago, and has had no hat since, then he has assuredly gone down
in the world."
Ahem---Mr. Holmes, you clearly recognize your hats and your fashion, but
just how well do you understand guys?
Everyone knows that when a man decides that an item of attire is his
favorite, he will not give it up!
Unlike many women, who will toss aside even beloved garments when the
hot wind of fashion blows, a man will wear his favorite cap until it rots off
his head. Hasn’t every woman at
some point had to make a man’s hat, shirt, or pair of shoes mysteriously
vanish, because style (and perhaps hygiene) dictates the offensive article must
go?
Oh course, Holmes proves to be correct in all of his deductions, and
soon a merry game is afoot. But
that line about the hat has always made me wonder if Holmes was a bit of a
clothes horse. For further
evidence in my case, here’s how Watson describes Holmes, after finding him
‘camping out’ in The Hound of the Baskervilles:
“In his tweed suit and cloth cap he looked like any other tourist upon
the moor, and he had contrived, with that catlike love of personal cleanliness
which was one of his characteristics, that his chin should be as smooth and his
linen as perfect as if he were in Baker Street.”
Being a connoisseur of clothing had an extra advantage
for Holmes, in that it provided him a vast wardrobe to draw upon when he needed
to assume a disguise. Among his
many impersonations were an Italian priest, a plumber, a bookseller, a sailor,
and even (gasp!) an American. But
the one I’ve always been the most curious about is the one that’s mentioned in
a quick aside in ‘The Mazarin Stone.’
Holmes’ servant boy tells Watson that Holmes has been busy on a case:
“He’s following someone. Yesterday he was out as a workman looking for a
job. To-day he was an old woman. Fairly took me in, he did, and I ought to know
his ways by now.” Billy pointed with a grin to a very baggy parasol which
leaned against the sofa. “That’s part of the old woman’s outfit,” he said.
Holmes later crows to Watson about his success in following the
villain:
“I’ve been at his very elbow all the morning. You’ve seen me as an old
lady, Watson. I was never more convincing. He actually picked up my parasol for
me once.”
Could Holmes have been such a great actor without a thorough knowledge of costume? Did he
‘get in touch’ with his a feminine side when it came to appreciating style? And did Holmes grasp
something that so many people (especially those who callously dismiss an
interest in clothing as foolish) completely fail to understand: that what we
wear, just as what we think and say and do, is part of the great adventure of
being human?
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