Whore for historical clothing.

One of the pitfalls of musketeer fic is the temptation, when doing research, to spend hours staring at 17th century clothing with drooling lust in my heart rather than actually looking up, say, the siege of La Rochelle. Confession time: much as I love D’Artagnan et. al., I don’t really lust after them so much as I want to have sex with their clothing. Because omg, the Bling! The lace! The embroidery! The doublets with detachable fake sleeves! The earrings on men! The plumed hats! The ribbons! The needlessly complicated styles and ridiculous numbers of buttons! Somebody write me Porthos/Aramis clothing kink now!