It was hot. Uncomfortably so, what else can you except from the streets of New York mid day? The year is 1762. You need a handful of things- and one if those things is a tailored suit and or dress. When you walk in, you see a timid looking man, his hair pulled into a short pony wearing a red jacket, he was thinner than most and tall too, desperately explaining that he was not a British redcoat and he just likes the color to a violent seeming colonist.

“Sir I assure you I’m not a British soldier nor a Loyalist! It’s just my color!-“

The colonist didn’t seem to care, slamming his hands down on the counter, shaking the small box which held the cash.

”Bull! That’s away a redcoat would say! Get lost! You better not be here when me or my buddies come back!”

The tailor sighed and rubbed his temples as the colonist left before noticing you at last.

“Oh..! Excuse me, where are my manners..What can I help you with..?”