So I accidentally almost got into an argument on Twitter, and now I'm thinking about bad historical costuming tropes. Specifically, Action Hero Leather Pants.
See, I was light-heartedly pointing out the inaccuracies of the costumes in Black Sails, and someone came out of the woodwork to defend the show. The misunderstanding was that they thought I was dismissing the show just for its costumes, which I wasn't - I was simply pointing out that it can't entirely care about material history (meaning specifically physical objects/culture) if it treats its clothes like that.
But this person was slightly offended on behalf of their show - especially, quote, "And from a fan of OFMD, no less!" Which got me thinking - it's true! I can abide a lot more historical costuming inaccuracy from Our Flag than I can Black Sails or Vikings. And I don't think it's just because one has my blorbos in it. But really, when it comes down to it...
What is the difference between this and this?
Here's the thing. Leather pants in period dramas isn't new. You've got your Vikings, Tudors, Outlander, Pirates of the Caribbean, Once Upon a Time, Will, The Musketeers, even Shakespeare in Love - they love to shove people in leather and call it a day. But where does this come from?
Obviously we have the modern connotations. Modern leather clothes developed in a few subcultures: cowboys drew on Native American clothing. (Allegedly. This is a little beyond my purview, I haven't seen any solid evidence, and it sounds like the kind of fact that people repeat a lot but is based on an assumption. I wouldn't know, though.) Leather was used in some WWI and II uniforms.
But the big boom came in the mid-C20th in motorcycle, punk/goth, and gay subcultures, all intertwined with each other and the above. Motorcyclists wear leather as practical protective gear, and it gets picked up by rock and punk artists as a symbol of counterculture, and transferred to movie designs. It gets wrapped up in gay and kink communities, with even more countercultural and taboo meanings. By the late C20th, leather has entered mainstream fashion, but it still carries those references to goths, punks, BDSM, and motorbike gangs, to James Dean, Marlon Brando, and Mick Jagger. This is whence we get our Spikes and Dave Listers in 1980s/90s media, bad boys and working-class punks.
And some of the above "historical" design choices clearly build on these meanings. William Shakespeare is dressed in a black leather doublet to evoke the swaggering bad boy artist heartthrob, probably down on his luck. So is Kit Marlowe.
But the associations get a little fuzzier after that. Hook, with his eyeliner and jewellery, sure. King Henry, yeah, I see it. It's hideously ahistorical, but sure. But what about Jamie and Will and Ragnar, in their browns and shabby, battle-ready chic? Well, here we get the other strain of Bad Period Drama Leather.
See, designers like to point to history, but it's just not true. Leather armour, especially in the western/European world, is very, very rare, and not just because it decays faster than metal. (Yes, even in ancient Greece/Rome, despite many articles claiming that as the start of the leather armour trend!) It simply wasn't used a lot, because it's frankly useless at defending the body compared to metal. Leather was used as a backing for some splint armour pieces, and for belts, sheathes, and buckles, but it simply wasn't worn like the costumes above. It's heavy, uncomfortable, and hard to repair - it's simply not practical for a garment when you have perfectly comfortable, insulating, and widely available linen, wool, and cotton!
As far as I can see, the real influence on leather in period dramas is fantasy. Fantasy media has proliferated the idea of leather armour as the lightweight choice for rangers, elves, and rogues, a natural, quiet, flexible material, less flashy or restrictive than metal. And it is cheaper for a costume department to make, and easier for an actor to wear on set. It's in Dungeons and Dragons and Lord of the Rings, King Arthur, Runescape, and World of Warcraft.
And I think this is how we get to characters like Ragnar and Vane. This idea of leather as practical gear and light armour, it's fantasy, but it has this lineage, behind which sits cowboy chaps and bomber/flight jackets. It's usually brown compared to the punk bad boy's black, less shiny, and more often piecemeal or decorated. In fact, there's a great distinction between the two Period Leather Modes within the same piece of media: Robin Hood (2006)! Compare the brooding, fascist-coded villain Guy of Gisborne with the shabby, bow-wielding, forest-dwelling Robin:
So, back to the original question: What's the difference between Charles Vane in Black Sails, and Edward Teach in Our Flag Means Death?
Simply put, it's intention. There is nothing intentional about Vane's leather in Black Sails. It's not the only leather in the show, and it only says what all shabby period leather says, relying on the same tropes as fantasy armour: he's a bad boy and a fighter in workaday leather, poor, flexible, and practical. None of these connotations are based in reality or history, and they've been done countless times before. It's boring design, neither historically accurate nor particularly creative, but much the same as all the other shabby chic fighters on our screens. He has a broad lineage in Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean and such, but that's it.
In Our Flag, however, the lineage is much, much more intentional. Ed is a direct homage to Mad Max, the costuming in which is both practical (Max is an ex-cop and road warrior), and draws on punk and kink designs to evoke a counterculture gone mad to the point of social breakdown, exploiting the thrill of the taboo to frighten and titillate the audience.
In particular, Ed is styled after Max in the second movie, having lost his family, been badly injured, and watched the world turn into an apocalypse. He's a broken man, withdrawn, violent, and deliberately cutting himself off from others to avoid getting hurt again. The plot of Mad Max 2 is him learning to open up and help others, making himself vulnerable to more loss, but more human in the process.
This ties directly into the themes of Our Flag - it's a deliberate intertext. Ed's emotional journey is also one from isolation and pain to vulnerability, community, and love. Mad Max (intentionally and unintentionally) explores themes of masculinity, violence, and power, while Max has become simplified in the popular imagination as a stoic, badass action hero rather than the more complex character he is, struggling with loss and humanity. Similarly, Our Flag explores masculinity, both textually (Stede is trying to build a less abusive pirate culture) and metatextually (the show champions complex, banal, and tender masculinities, especially when we're used to only seeing pirates in either gritty action movies or childish comedies).
Our Flag also draws on the specific countercultures of motorcycles, rockers, and gay/BDSM culture in its design and themes. Naturally, in such a queer show, one can't help but make the connection between leather pirates and leather daddies, and the design certainly nods at this, with its vests and studs. I always think about this guy, with his flat cap so reminiscient of gay leather fashions.
More overtly, though, Blackbeard and his crew are styled as both violent gangsters and countercultural rockstars. They rove the seas like a bikie gang, free and violent, and are seen as icons, bad boys and celebrities. Other pirates revere Blackbeard and wish they could be on his crew, while civilians are awed by his reputation, desperate for juicy, gory details.
This isn't all of why I like the costuming in Our Flag Means Death (especially season 1). Stede's outfits are by no means accurate, but they're a lot more accurate than most pirate media, and they're bright and colourful, with accurate and delightful silks, lace, velvets, and brocades, and lovely, puffy skirts on his jackets. Many of the Revenge crew wear recognisable sailor's trousers, and practical but bright, varied gear that easily conveys personality and flair. There is a surprising dedication to little details, like changing Ed's trousers to fall-fronts for a historical feel, Izzy's puffy sleeves, the handmade fringe on Lucius's red jacket, or the increasing absurdity of navy uniform cuffs between Nigel and Chauncey.
A really big one is the fact that they don't shy away from historical footwear! In almost every example above, we see the period drama's obsession with putting men in skinny jeans and bucket-top boots, but not only does Stede wear his little red-heeled shoes with stockings, but most of his crew, and the ordinary people of Barbados, wear low boots or pumps, and even rough, masculine characters like Pete wear knee breeches and bright colours. It's inaccurate, but at least it's a new kind of inaccuracy, that builds much more on actual historical fashions, and eschews the shortcuts of other, grittier period dramas in favour of colour and personality.
But also. At least it fucking says something with its leather.
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I am genuinely always thinking about being one of a pair of subs. I'm the obedient bunny, he's the bratty puppy.
Our dom has us kneel for him in the living room after having teased us all day. "Alright, listen, sweet things. I know you're all riled up for me, but I need to go to the store. When I get back, I'll use you both properly, okay?"
We nod, my pup partner squirming already, wiggling his hips. Our dom continues, "You are NOT to touch yourselves until I get back. Got it?"
I nod sweetly, and get my hair ruffled affectionately in return. My sub partner, on the other hand, bites his lip with a glint in his eye, nodding slowly. You could almost hear the cogs turning. Our dom partner gives him a look, but inevitably ruffles his hair as well. "Okay. I'll be back soon, I promise."
We sit still and kneel in the living room until the front door closes and we hear him driving away. Suddenly, my partner pounces on top of me. He's already rutting against my thigh and pressing kisses all over my face and neck.
"B-But," I gasp, "Sir, he said to- He wants us to-"
"I know, baby boy, but I need you so bad right now, he's not gonna have to know," He says, against my neck, "You like this, don't you?"
I groan, "Yes, of course I do, I want you so bad... but I wanna be good for sir..."
"Just don't touch yourself, sweetheart. That's what he said, right? Don't touch yourselves? I'm sure that means I can touch you."
I ponder it for a little bit. Eventually, I nod, biting my lip. I'm still unsure if this is going against sir's wishes, but feeling my puppy boyfriend rutting against me, lips on my neck... It just feels too good after a whole morning of teasing and denial.
Puppy leans up and whispers in my ear, "Good boy." I shiver, hairs standing on end.
I let him manhandle me roughly into the position he wants, which turns out to be frotting our tdicks together. I'm laying on the floor, pinned, whimpering, feeling a little guilty at technically disobeying, but mostly lost in the pleasure.
My puppy looks down at me and says, "Don't cum, either, bunny. You have to wait til sir gets back for that one, definitely."
I nod, breathless. Then I open my eyes and look at him questioningly, "What about you?"
He smirks and rakes his claws down the center of my chest, leaving four pretty red scratches. I moan, and he says, "I can take whatever he's gonna dish. Don't you worry your pretty little head- After all, who's making the rules right now?"
I whimper, "Y-You, sir."
"Good boy."
We stay like that, him roughly grinding into me as I whine and moan beneath him. Eventually, though, the door opens, and I gasp and try to squirm out of my puppy's grip. We weren't supposed to still be playing when he got back. But puppy isn't relenting, he's still rocking his hips sharply against me.
"What do we have here?" Our dom says, a little amused. He surely would have guessed this would happen.
Puppy grunts as he continues grinding on me, "Welcome back, sir." I look at him and he's looking him dead in the eyes, smirking.
"Oh, puppy. Just couldn't wait, could you?" Sir sets down the grocery bags on a table, and walks over and picks pup off me with ease.
I start scrambling to sit up, but my dom presses his boot to my chest and gently lays me back down. "Still, bun, stay here. Let me deal with our boy and then I'll be back for you, okay?" I nod, looking up at him with soft eyes. "There's a good boy."
For a little while, behind me, I hear struggling, teasing, and soft moans. Then, my dom comes back over to me and lifts me up into his arms, walking us over to his armchair. This is when I see that our puppy is tied up spread open on the couch, gagged, but noticeably drippy and empty. Sir sits me down in his chair on his lap, facing puppy.
"Spread your legs, bunny," He murmurs into my ear. I do as he asks immediately, earning a quiet, "Good boy..." In response.
I turn my head to look at him and start saying, "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to disobey, I-"
He shushes me, petting my hair, "Oh, bunny, that's not your fault. I know you need touched, puppy just decided that it was his responsibility to do so. Isn't that right, pup?"
Puppy says something in snarky defiance, surely, muffled against his gag. "Exactly. I know you're my good boy, bun. That's why I'm gonna overstimulate you on my lap right now while your pup watches and can't do anything about it." My eyes widen, starry. I see that sir is smirking at puppy. Our pup squirms and growls against his bonds.
I lean back against our dom's chest, also looking at puppy as I begin to have my tdick touched, softly at first. Then, he applies pressure, making me moan quietly. Teasingly, he uses his fingers to spread my bunnycunt open on display at pup.
"Doesn't he look so pretty like this, puppy?" At this point, our pup is ravenously trying to get out of his bonds, but he's tied up too tightly. Sir adopts a fake pity tone as he says, "Aw, I know, puppy. You just wanna use him so bad, don't you?"
Sir plunges a finger inside me and curls it, making me gasp and moan loudly, "That's it, good bunny. Let every sound out, I want him to hear how good I make you feel."
I do as he asks, making obscene sounds as his fingers fuck in and out of me, thumb circling my tdick. He growls gently in my ear, "You need to tell me when you're close, okay, bunny?"
"I- um- I'm close sir, so close for you, sir," I babble, already feeling so overwhelmed with sensation.
"Cum for us, bunny. Cum all over my fingers." I clench down and shudder, crying out and cumming all over his hand. He doesnt take his fingers out, but he gives me a little bit of time to breathe before he starts fucking me again.
Eventually, I cum the same way again. Then a third, and a fourth time, stacking them back to back against each other. After I've cum five times, I'm absolutely spent. He takes his fingers out, cleans them off, and pets my hair and shoulders, letting me slump against him bonelessly.
Our puppy has given up on getting out of his restraints, but he's whining softly, looking at us with big eyes. Sir motions for me to kneel down on the floor, and I do so, a little slumped.
He walks over to puppy and plays with his dripping hole as he says, "Good boy, good puppy. You took that so well, I know that was difficult. Are you ready for your reward?" Puppy nods, frantically. "Come here, bunny, kneel in front of him."
I happily crawl over, kneeling in front of my pup, smiling softly at him. Sir takes his gag out and says, "Tell him what you want, pup. Nicely, if you would, our boy is a little overwhelmed as you might imagine."
"Pl... Please suck my tdick, bunny."
I oblige, glad to have him down my throat. He throws his head back and moans as I start to flick my tongue. Sir teases his nipples for a while, watching me service him. "Such good boys, both of you. You're both so good for me, I'm so proud of you, so proud to be your owner."
Eventually, sir takes my head and starts fucking my mouth on puppy's dick. Puppy moans louder than ever, babbling about how good it feels, thanking us both. Sir fucks my throat on it harder, growling, "That's it. Take it, take it, both of you."
I moan into his tdick, sending loud vibrations straight through him. Puppy jerks his hips up in time with my mouth bobbing on him, crying out, "Sir, I'm gonna cum!"
"Cum for me, puppy, cum down his throat," I can hear sir whisper in his ear. Pup cums explosively down my throat, covering my face in it.
Sir gently pulls my head off, as I stare off in a subspace daze. Puppy is panting, as our dom makes quick work of untying him, "Good boys. You're both so good for me, took that all so well."
He lies puppy back on the couch against him, and motions for me to lay on him as well. I jump up, eager to get snuggled after all that intense play, and he chuckles sweetly at me. Sir pets my hair when I get nestled into his embrace, "Good boy, there you go. Much better, love having both my sweet boys in my arms."
Puppy leans up to kiss me gently on the forehead. They both keep praising me and each other, and I deliver slurred praise back where I can, eventually drifting off peacefully in their safe embrace.
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