I find myself hopelessly enamored of a certain saucy Aussie investigator. Her effervescence and inquisitive nature completely slay me.
The name of my girl crush is Miss Phryne Fisher, of Murder Mystery Fame.
Is it that she drinks too much, dances with too much abandon, and beds too many hot men? Is it her wardrobe of stylish art deco garments? Or is it simply that she owns herself with delightful and delicious aplomb?
I am utterly ravished by her lightness-of-being.
No question, when I grow up, I want to be Miss Fisher. Until then, I shall have to settle for emulation.
