By mid-afternoon Mrs Hudson had returned with nearly a dozen bags filled with some high end clothing, significantly different from Sherlock's favoured style.
Grumbling, he took the bags through to his designated room, and nearly an hour later having showered and shaved returned to the living room where John and Mrs Hudson were chatting amiably over a cup of tea and a slice of her home-made Victoria sponge.
"Oh now, that's an improvement!" the elderly lady exclaimed clapping her hands.
"Tell me?" John smiled, resting his head against the back of the chair and closing his eyes.
"Well it's an improvement on Steam Punk." Sherlock groused, but there was no conviction in his voice.
John quirked an eyebrow.
"Deep purple shirt, black Spencer Hart suit, black brogues…." He paused, and John's eyes flicked open.
"What? Something you don't like?"
"No." it was almost a reverend whisper. "It's the most magnificent coat I've ever seen. Thank you Mrs Hudson"
"It's a Belstaff John, calf-length, greatcoat style." Martha Hudson beamed up at the young man who was currently trying different ways of wearing the garment. "The style suits you."
She stood and reached into a small carrier bag, adding a blue cashmere scarf and a pair of leather gloves.
"Fortunate you have plenty of savings," she added. "That lot almost broke the bank!"