Capt. Sterling

You are a Ferrari 360 Modena! You've got it all. Power, passion, precision, and style. You're sensuous, exotic, and temperamental. Sure, you're expensive and high-maintenance, but you're worth it.

Not quite sure what you mean here... as I have a detailed sketch of an original that does have gores added... or are you saying you just didn't add them yourself this time around??

Stays can be just about any color that was available during the time frame...

One of the most detailed and easiest to follow is Janet Arnold's Mantua pattern in her book Patterns of Fashion c1660-1860 If you can enlarge a graph pattern and simply resize it to fit... this is the way to go... if you have the basics for sewing down and some draping experience, not even much, it is a breeze to put together. But a mantua is usually worn over stays (most common by far, although I do have one plate of a woman without the stays and she is labeled poor)... so please take into consideration that the stays should be made first

And wool around the fire is even far more safer than linen... ask Cheeky, it is also not that much warmer to wear in the long run... Her Bess Hagarty always wears a woolen petticote for her outer petticote.

Lady Constance, Not to be a drag, but many of the Living Historian/Reenactor types copy originals from the time period because we want to do things as they did them. Sure anyone can take a modern pattern and add gores/pleats, but then I would advise caution as you don't want to be putting in seams that simply were not used then... or are simply in the wrong place to begin with because in many cases, modern standards are just not the same. And in all honesty, I have sewn both modern and 19th century tuxedos and tail coats... neither come close to original patterns from the GAoP. Sure some sewing techniques need rethinking but if you ask questions of them that be reproducing said historical patterns, most are more than happy to lend assistance. And once you know how the garment was sewn in the past it is easily reproduced if one has experience in sewing. You see in our case, it doesn't matter what we know about sewing now a days, it matters how they did what they did, in order for us to put forth the best presentation... and this takes time, none of us got it right the first time out... and all of us are still correcting things the more we learn. Trying to create garments using the modern mindset is fine for certain groups but is not what the historically minded are aiming for. Their goals are to present the history as accurately as possible as they are out to educate, and thus, go to great lengths and expenses to get it right. Unfortunately, in the long run, this is not a cheap hobby...grin. Odds are you will pass muster down at Pip, but I would check with William Red Wake if you are a member of the Mercury Crew to be certain, and I know most groups allow a reasonable amount of time to get it right, so you may wish to begin at the point you are currently at and then grow to be more historically correct... because, frankly, having done this for decades, there is a major difference between clothing that is done properly for the time frame and that which is done to suit. It is easy to pick out in a crowd of pirates who are the "real" ones and who isn't... even the crowds can tell. But again, all this depends on the group's standards that you are affiliated with.... There is always one or two per group willing and able to steer you in the right direction. My recommendation... get it right the first time, instead of having to fix it at a later date. Such only adds to time and cost. Start with the basics, shirts, trousers, some sort of waistcoat or jacket for the men can come later.... for the girls, shifts, petticotes and some sort of cap and neckcloth, corsets/stays and mantuas can come later...although I highly recommend getting stays done as soon as possible. In many cases this will get you out on the field at many events.

Fiddle de dee

Happy birthday to you Patrick! Here's wishing you all the best

August 4, 1704 - Silver shop directly opposite the Watch Dog Sterling had transfered onward to the adjacent shop’s window, growing anxious as young courier remained overly long at current post. He turned several times to observe, his own position offering a rather poor vantage point, but soon breathed a sigh of relief as letter passed from hand to hand and slowly began its way to Murin. Or so he thought… “Puis-je vous aider le monsieur ?” * Startled, Sterling glanced toward shop keeper. Head cocked slightly allowing good eye better view of the balding man who hung in doorway’s frame, barely allowing him enough space to even be there. “Non, non merci,” he replied with an impatient shake of his head and redirected his sight once more to the boy’s reflection. “Come along. Be off with ye,” he thought to himself, but the boy remained put and Sterling made his way back to the previous shop window. This window now proved ineffectual as midday multitudes packed the area between him, the boy and the ship. But, his curiosity was aroused as a figure, moving along the railing, was easily seen. This person seemed familiar to him. From such a position Sterling could not truly be certain but there was something in the cut of the man, his carriage… Inward witness barked to remain as he was. He could not help himself and, instead, he risked turning about to confirm his suspicions, but attentions were fully captured by a second individual swiftly going aloft. Head turned Heavenward as lookout scanned not the open waters but the masses below, obviously looking for something… or someone. Heart sounded loudly now in Sterling’s ears as watcher’s focus was nearly upon him. Scarred face quickly lowered, but not without one good look at the man who had caused the about face in the first place. Gaze lingered long enough before averting back to window’s belongings. By then, the boy, who, now dismissed was heading straight toward him. Long strides now took Sterling to first shop’s entrance and he was greeted by a charming young woman. He wondered if, like at home, shops employed the better looking girls to entice male customers indoors. He was willing to take a gamble. “Bonjour,” he said, fingers coming up to touch hat’s brim. “Puis-je vous aider Monsieur?” the young woman asked. ** “If it is agreeable to your master, yes I think you can,” Sterling replied. Words fell slowly, deliberately, as one gloved finger slowly traced her jaw line, roaming downward to décolletage. A knowing smile graced the beauty’s features. “My master is most obliging,” the girl said softly. She stepped aside, one hand waving Sterling inward. Several more minutes were required while the girl explained that she must take her leave of day's occupation. Shop owner only eyed Sterling briefly before nod of understanding was given along with permission for the rest of the day off. The young lady collected a few of her things before coming to take the captain’s arm. “A moment?” he requested of her. Grey beaver was removed and brown periwig followed. He shook out his own blond hair and it fell down about his shoulders before he replaced his hat. The girl watched him curiously before he chuckled and told her falsely of the wig’s discomforts. Arm was offered and the two made their way back out into the streets. The young boy was no where to be found, perhaps thinking it wise to be content with the coins already in his possession. The pair began their walk back to the inn. Sterling's face averted from prying eyes as he gazed intently upon the young woman. Such was a simple task, for she was easy to look upon and would make a pleasant bedfellow until midwatch. But she served another purpose. He hoped her additional company would contradict any description the boy may have given of the note's author. He tried to urge her along without stirring her concern. With letter's delivery, he now desired to be back indoors. Once again he had acted rashly, but he could not help but lend aid to others, whether or not he truly should. He often jested it would be the death of him. *Can I help you? **Can I help you Sir?

Damnation and folks be expecting me to work at Blackbeards....

What a woman!!

FB to top all FBs

Sterling found himself downstairs again, pausing before entering the common room. Once again gaze moved over the setting that lay before him with great care, and then, lowering brim of hat, not that it would do much to hide his face, followed by final adjustment of white weepers over sleeves’ ends, he stepped into the common room. Gaze remained locked upon Inn Keeper, who had been observed and then cornered before the man could disappear back into his cellar. “Je sors pour un peu d'air. Je reviendrai en temps voulu et voudrai retenirma pièce,” Sterling said as he quickly made a study of the other man. “Mais évidemment le Monsieur .. ?” “Jean Devareaux, le capitaine du navire d'esclave français, Horizon Désolé,” Sterling replied. One brow arched in surprise as the proprietor digested the introduction. “Un nom si étrange pour un tel navire, non ?” the inn keeper asked. Black encased shoulders gave mild shrug. “C'est une occupation particulière est cela non ? Peu importe comment profitable…De nouveau, je reviendrai assez bientôt,” he added. Weepers were once more troubled with before he started for the door. * Outside, inward witness advised caution and haste, but outward appearance would not heed such demands. Sterling’s carriage spoke of intense sorrow; sloped shoulders, slow gait, head hanging low as arms came upward, absentmindedly, to hug form as if to comfort. Usual care as to foot placement was missing as path now tread, led him closer and closer to the docks. He looked the perfect widower because in fact he was. The pain he felt he did not have to conjure up, it was too real regarding second lover lost. He had not been the perfect husband this time around. In fact he had blatantly disregarded even trying to be after actions convinced him that wife did not care for him as he had so hoped. This time he had leaped without looking at the differences betwixt he and Auore and then remained married to try and do his duty by her. In his own way he had loved her very much, but he kept such feelings shut away at best, never allowing himself to expose them a second time. And because of such, he had brought not only family to begin life anew in Virginia but long time lover Lilly McKinney, who he established in her own home in Williamsburg, in order to take his ease when he wished to lose himself. Now with Aurore’s passing in childbirth, he not only felt burdened by his sorrow but by his guilt as well. He looked up suddenly as all too familiar sounds accosted hearing, the calling of the seabirds, the shouts and bustle of crews keeping their charges, the great Ladies of the seas, in fine fashion. Beside him, a merchant argued with the harbor master and the customs man regarding tariffs due. Ahead of him… He halted as he stared hard at the great ship that lay docked, all too close for comfort, before him, then quickly crossed the street, stopping once more before shop window. Gaze did not linger over wares displayed but instead, focused on the Watch Dog’s reflection. Mind quickly made note of what he saw, once or twice glancing over shoulder to confirm what window pane told him. She was a prize fit to be had but he had his reasons not to do the taking. Still it would not bode well for him to remain where he was, no matter how much he wished to view those aboard her. Gloved hand fished in pocket to retrieve small note and then dockyard child was hailed and called closer. Sterling held out the letter. Two more denier were also brought to view and child approached without so much as a second thought. Kneeling down before the young boy, instructions were given. “Sur là-bas le navire, le Chien de Montre, il y a une dame. Donnez cette note au fusilier marin par la passerelle et demandez-lui de le donner à la Maîtresse McDonough. Ces pièces sont les vôs pour la sauvegarde si vous faites comme je demande,” and coins were pressed into small palm, taken back and returned as boy realized the seriousness of Sterling’s request. The captain winked. “Pour mon amour de dame, oui?” ** The child grinned and nodded then turned and approached the Watch Dog. *Sterling: I am going out for a bit of air. I shall come back in due time and wish to keep my room," Inn Keeper: But of course Mister...? " Sterling: Jean Devareaux, the captain of the French slave ship, Bleak Horizon " Inn Keeper: A strange name for such ship, no? Sterling: It is a peculiar occupation is it not? Still it is quite profitable. Once again, I shall come back soon." ** On that ship, the Watch Dog, there is a lady. Give this note to the marine by the gangplank and ask him to give it to Mistress McDonough. These coins are yours for the keeping if you do as I ask, ” The captain winked. “ For my ladylove, yes? ”

Many happy returns of the day to a most charming Lady, who knows her cigars!! We raise a glass to ye now Lil, and happily do so again down at Blackbeard's.... here's to keeping a grand celebration going! Wishing ye all the very best on yer day and always!!

I know linen costs can be quite high in regular shops about town but when looking for proper fabrics you may wish to order from http://www.fabrics-store.com/

Dear Lady, it all truly depends on what your crew's standards are for clothing. There truly is not a one of us that takes the field in 100% authentic kit, although there are a few that may come damn close. If your folks are willing to substitute what looks like linen as some are willing to have machine sewn inner seams, then by all means m'dear, feel free to use it. As it is being used for shifts and will hardly been seen at all, I personally would not have a problem working with you at an event, just keep your eye out for the Customs man, as he may be looking to impose a fine on you ...

oil

Aye but this is NOT going forward this year, perhaps another time... There will just be two different camps again, like last year

But of course...

Ahoy Fayma, This offer still open Lady? If yes, please pm/email offline regarding funeral items... Thank you.

Montgomery states that Muslin, a fine cotton textile first made in India. Tavernier, a 17th century merchant and traveler, wrote of the "calicuts [muslins sold in Calcutta] made so fine you can hardly feel them in your hand, and the thread, when spun, is scarce discernible." About 1670 muslins imported by the East India Company displaced "Cambrics, Silesia lawns, and such kind of flaxen lines of Flanders and Germany" (BECK). Mortimer listed twenty-five "species" of East India muslins imported from the time of William and Mary at 15 percent duty. Not until the invention of the mule-jenny in 1779 were fine cotton yarns suitable for successful muslin weaving spun in England and Scotland. A particularyly interesting American reference is the one in Margrita van Varicks's 1695/96 inventory to "a sett of white floward muslin curtains." Remember India Calicos or cotton cloth was prohibited for a number of years in England at least... and before that it seems to be something, according to a quote again in Montgomery to be much worn by women and children. Pamphlets of the times, in attempts by the English weavers to downplay the product, claim that the material was far more worse for wear than English goods such as Perpetuana or Shalloon. Considering they were prohibited twice, one wonders how much the first prohibition was adhered to. From Montgomery, :Linen.."England is served with fine linnen from Holland, and countries adjacent to it, and with cambrics, and other sorts of linnen from Holland and France. England and the British Plantations are served with great quantities of middling and low-priced linnens of divers sorts, from Silesia, and other parts in the upper and lower circle of Saxony. Textiles in America 1650-1870, by Florence M. Montgomery Also the ASC call for shirts made of blue and white chequer'd linnen. Most items listed in Montgomery made out of cottons/muslins, seem to be shifts, children's items, linings of garments and furniture type items such as bed curtains... For what it is worth, if portraying a common sailor/pirate go with linens for shirts and shifts.

“Merci. Je suis le plus reconnaissant.” * Paper, pen and ink was exchanged for several deniers. Inn keeper’s young charge dipped in curtsy before making her way below and door to private room was once more closed and locked. Sterling felt better by an hundredfold though he had slept but an hour’s time at most. He woke suddenly, as was his want, bolting upward in bed, drenched shirt clinging to battered form as droplets of perspiration commenced in a downward trickle along his spine. It was not for disturbance that he now found himself awake but more for the lack there of. Feeling as if he had dozed off in mid conversation, which, indeed, he had, it was the quiet that woke him more than anything. As he pulled himself from the confines of bedclothes, he mused that it should have been the girl that had faded away from boredom at his tiresome speech, and yet deep inward, he was grateful for a listening ear. There were few that he could truly talk with and not just at.. Fingers raked roughly through blond locks glad to be rid of heavy wig, however briefly, as he eased himself to window’s edge and cautiously searched the streets below. There was something he felt the need to do and when satisfied with thoroughfare’s continued normal routine, he pulled black breeches back into place over linen drawers. When once again he resembled decency, he made his way down stairs and asked that materials for writing be sent to him as soon as they could be collected. Purchasing a bottle of wine he returned to his chamber to wait. A dispatch of such succinctness should not have taken any great lengths to write, but he fussed over it time and time again before actually putting pen to ink, for he truly meant that which he wished to say. In the end, as he gently blew over ink to hasten drying, he used little words to, hopefully, make his point. Finally satisfied, he finished dressing, checking both Rheinfelden and Snaphance for proper working order then folded epistle, taking it up and tucking it fast away in his pocket. *Thank you. I am most grateful

Tell him what?

Lilly livered? Where on earth do ye get that idea from?

Coffee for me, make it black and strong, and a bucket of ice for William