Snakes. They were all snakes, Rarity Decided. They may have looked like ponies, acted like ponies, and talked like ponies, but they were absolutely, positively snakes. That was her singular impression upon leaving Canterlot after the fiasco that was Twilight’s birthday party at the castle. The ponies of the so called ‘High Society’ were nothing more than a bunch of writhing, slithering snakes, biting each other in a desperate attempt to be on top as their forked tongues hissed lies behind other ponies backs. Nothing else, no other creature in the wide, wide world of Equestria could be so positively vile. The one refreshing pony had been Fancypants, whose pure and simple honesty had touched the Ponyville designer like a cool breeze after the storm.
“...And this is Rarity. She’s a good friend of mine,” muttered Rarity, as she stared out of the train window at the mountainside city. Logically, the fashionista knew that in order to have a viable career as a high level designer, she would need the approval and reputation that only the Canterlot social scene could provide for her. However, her brief reign there as ‘the kind of pony that everypony should know’ had been a fantastic and terrible eye-opener. The white unicorn gave a weak chuckle at the lyrics of the song she had sung on a whim. Perhaps she was just too used to the packed earth streets of Ponyville, where everypony said what they meant, and never hid behind veiled insults or upturned snouts. Maybe, with enough time, she’d get better at the vicious social game that the Canterlot high society played. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t ever imagine acting like those snakes. She would be like Fancypants, she decided, and always tell the truth. If she thought it was good, she would say so, and damn her reputation. The unicorn sighed. Such things only worked if you had a secure position socially already. Perhaps she could simply avoid insulting anypony on purpose? Yes, that would work out better. She could still work her way up the social ladder, while avoiding becoming one of the snakes.
As the train pulled into Ponyville station, and Rarity gathered up her bags with her magic, she smiled as she inhaled the fresh scent of rain and earth. She was home, she realised. Her business and passion may take her to Canterlot, but it would never truly be home to her. Not the way that Ponyville, with its honest and earnest ponies would be. And if the unicorn was truthful with herself, she would rather conduct her business from here than Canterlot. Because then, only the customers that actually desired a dress would ever make it out here, and that suited the designer just fine.