2: Two
Cringing, Coco opened her eyes.
She looked at Rarity, and saw the unicorn's reddening cheek. She then looked down at—and felt the sting of—her own right hoof. She promptly darted back, panicked.
"R-R-Rarity!" Coco stuttered. "I-I didn't, I..."
Rarity continued to stand where she was, stunned, a look of clear disbelief marking her face.
"You... you hit me!" Rarity said, finally. She held her hoof to her cheek with widening eyes. "Not even my own mother—"
"I-I'm sorry!" Coco said, quickly. "It's just that you..." She shook her head quickly, back and forth. "...you were sounding like Suri. You were sounding so much like Suri just now. I couldn't stop myself!" Coco's breaths went deep, and her voice became fearful. "I've seen all of this before! I couldn't let it happen twice!"
Rarity stepped back, her expression falling quickly. In seconds, she was completely deflated. Tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes.
"Thank you, Coco," she said, sniffling. "You're completely right. I needed that. Though... now I know. I truly can't do this anymore."
"But why?" Coco asked. "Just what is stopping you?"
And Rarity's face turned deadly serious.
"Coco, you just showed me that I am heading down the path of one of my most despised competitors in recent memory," Rarity said. "Should I not stop before I am completely lost?"
Coco walked over, and sat before Rarity. She motioned for the white mare to sit as well. Rarity did so, rubbing the tears from her eyes.
Hooves gripped and caressed hooves. Coco’s actions were soft and caring, but her face was just as serious as Rarity's had been moments ago.
"Rarity?" Coco said. "I want to ask you a question, and I want you to be as truthful as you possibly can."
"And that is?"
"Why did you get into this? Into fashion, I mean," Coco said. "What made you start, and what kept you going after you did?"
Rarity put her hoof to her chin in thought.
"What keeps me going?" Rarity mused. "Well, I... I suppose it's my wanting to show the world that it's possible to shine, or have talent, no matter who you are—or even more so, where you come from."
She sighed. "There are certain... stereotypes which float around those who do what we do, Coco. Certain expectations. You're assumed to be born in a certain place, be brought up a certain way, behave a certain way, have a certain amount of wealth, have certain sets of skills.
"However, simply by existing, I break all of these rules. My upbringing was decidedly unfabulous, ponies are forever shocked when they learn I operate out of Ponyville, and every time I pay a visit to Canterlot... well, let's just say things never go to plan." She shrugged. "At this point, I doubt they ever will."
The smallest of smiles tugged away at a corner of Rarity's muzzle.
"And truth be told... I rather like that."
Coco smiled in return. "But... what if all of that went away? What if the fashion industry, today, made it clear that they didn't want to give your design skills the time of day?" Coco paused, then delivered the kicker. "What if Ponyville was your only customer?"
"Heavens!" Rarity gasped. "You wish to destroy me?"
"Humor me?" Coco asked. "Please?"
Rarity closed her eyes. Coco relaxed in relief—Rarity looked to really be taking this seriously.
Then Rarity spoke, and, for the first time that day, she sounded strong.
"I still wouldn't stop," she said, her voice small, yet steady.
Rarity rose, walked around the boutique, picked up a single piece of fabric, and held it to her cheek.
As Rarity did so, even though she was still completely unkempt, Coco could see it. A tiny piece of that glowing radiance, borne of love and confidence, had reappeared. It was faint, but unmistakable. Coco allowed herself a pang of hope.
"I can't not design," Rarity said, voice gaining further strength. "I can't not accessorize. I can't turn down any pony—any species—who comes into my establishment, and asks to leave beautiful." Rarity gestured around the boutique. "I read ponies. Back to front. Their wishes, their needs, their loves, their vices. I decorate them, on the outside and the inside. I make them smile. And their smiles make me smile."
She turned to Coco, walking back towards the mare with a practiced, deliberate pace.
"It's the one thing I've ever been able to do, better than any pony I've ever known. And up to this point, I've done so in relative obscurity... but I’ve done well enough for myself. Even been happy. Lived within my means.
"But even if it were to all to disappear today, Coco? The muse would go on, whether or not that would mean leaving the rest of me behind. That is the one thing I have always been sure about. For better or worse..."
Rarity sat back down in front of her confidante.
"...I am myself. No more, and no less."
Coco smiled, warmth rushing through her. This was the Rarity she remembered. She just needed Rarity to remember herself as well.
"I have an idea, then," Coco said. "Why not just follow that muse? You know it won't quit."
Rarity scoffed, waving a hoof. "Oh, but the muse comes up with terrible, terrible ideas. At least half the time. Ideas that nopony would ever, ever like—"
"—like Hotel Chic?"
"Yes, like that garish piece of—" Rarity stopped, then blushed, then... giggled. "You know, thank you for finally being the one to say it? I mean, nopony else would. I thought I was going crazy. Don't take this as a complaint, but between you and me, I could never understand how that last-ditch rush job ever garnered the praise it did!"
"How do you think I felt?" Coco giggled in kind. "It was super-popular on the Garment District for an entire month! I just avoided Fashion Avenue until it was out of everypony's systems."
"It... it made it to... to Fashion... " That was as far as Rarity got before the giggles became uncontrollable, and turned into infectious belly laughs.
"It did!" Coco said, amidst her own laughter. "Ponies kept stealing linens! Hotel managers actually kind of hate you now!"
"Oh, please!" Rarity snorted. "Their jobs are to hate anyone who isn't pouring money on their table by the satchel!"
The girls laughed for a full minute after that, tension draining out of them with each exhale.
"I do know something put together in one night when I see it," Coco said, when she had herself under control again. "But that's just it. In this world, you never know just what'll hit. And nothing hits if you don't try. For one night, you believed that curtains and room keys could be runway material. Why not anything else?"
Rarity 'hmm'ed. "I... don't know if I can. Oh, Coco, I'm so sorry you've had to see me like this. This is how I truly am when no one's around, you know. Ever afraid, ever scared. Especially right now. If only you knew what it was like to put a piece of yourself out there, every time, only to be picked apart by those who really, in the end, care for their own satisfaction and naught else..."
Rarity took a deep breath. "I understand everything you say, Coco," she said. "It's just that at the same time, I always feel as if I need to get better. Creative types always have to get better, Coco. It's how we stay relevant."
Coco grinned. "Funny you should say that. Because I agree."
"You do?"
"Uh huh." Coco went to her saddlebag, rummaged around, and took out a magazine.
Rarity looked over at its cover. "Is that the new issue of Fashion Unbridled? I don't think I have that yet."
"I'm sure you don't. The press is in Manehattan, so city residents see the new issues at least a week before everypony else. But you actually got a feature this month."
"What?" Rarity rushed over as Coco turned the pages. "Let me see!"
Coco showed Rarity the page... and Rarity's face fell upon seeing the headline picture.
"Oh, no. No, no, no! Someone from Fashion Unbridled was actually at Rainbow Falls? If only I'd known! Those outfits weren't ready for public consumption, they were specialized, customized for—"
Coco shook her head and sighed. "Rarity? Hon? Read it."
Sending Style Skyward
by Beau Contraire
Rainbow Falls is not normally a place one would think to look for fashion inspiration—until one realizes that uniforms are always in style at the Equestria Games. Its tryouts are no exception.
Even so, one would expect uniforms to follow certain design principles. Certain rules of color, symmetry and theme. One needs to only look at, for example, the Wonderbolts' signature uniforms across the generations to understand.
In contrast, one would not expect the above. At all. Ever.
Doing a small amount of digging reveals that these ensembles were the work of Rarity, who stole the show last Fashion Week with clothes cobbled together out of hotel room scraps. At first glance, this would look like an attempt to improve on the formula. Indeed, both outfit lines very clearly play up the "curtain" aesthetic, whether the designer wished them to or not.
And on the surface, these look garish, hastily pasted together and ultimately throwaway, to say nothing of overly frilly. Look closer, however, and you find the complementing colors, the curves on the small yellow pony's outfit which accentuate her features, the concentration on tassels which actually works surprisingly well on her larger subject... and a flower motif that is out of place on neither.
What you find are two outfits that absolutely would not work for anyone but the ponies Rarity designed them for, and elicit emotions of joy and serenity if one looks at them for more than five seconds. And in the process, the designer has created an ensemble that, somehow, perfectly straddles the line between natural and pop. Bravo.
Hunches were present before, but now they are confirmed. Rarity is one to always watch. Rarity is a pony who will always surprise. Even when she attempts something mundane, something novel ever springs forth. Let us hope she continues along this path—the day she tries to live up to some of the outdated notions of "objective quality" running rampant across today's fashion scene is the day she dies as a designer.
Meanwhile, It's little wonder she crafts Princess Celestia's Grand Galloping Gala dresses every year. Royalty needs to stand out, after all.
"Well," Rarity said, still blinking in awe at the page. "That was unexpected."
Coco giggled. "Not for me. I'm right in the thick of things."
Coco put the magazine away, and looked imploringly at the mare across from her. "Rarity, fashion needs you, but trust me, it doesn't know it yet. You talk about 'getting better,' but... I've seen you work. You're already the best I know. Simply because you are just a little bit different."
For several moments, Rarity was silent. When she spoke again, she sounded pensive, yet hopeful.
"There are things I want to do," she said. "There are designs I wish to create... that I know nopony will like. I will sometimes craft things that ponies will detest. Quite a lot, actually."
"Good," Coco replied. "Some people won't like Rarity. You can't enter the spotlight of an industry and be everypony's friend. The worst thing you can do is try not to be offensive to anypony. Looking around this place, though, it looks like you already know what happens when you try."
Rarity shuddered and rolled her eyes. "Yes, well. One must try everything at least once, I suppose."
"Of course." Coco walked about the room, picking up some scattered jewels. "While you're trying everything, though? Don't lose yourself to everything you're trying." Coco presented the jewels to Rarity. "Because there's only one of you to go around."
Rarity smiled, taking Coco's hoof.
"I won't. Nor will I lose the ones who stay by my side," Rarity said. "They're the ones who remind me that if I want to be better, I should simply aim to always be a better me."
Her horn glowed, and magic shot from it, hitting the jewels. Light refracted in all directions, illuminating the room with soft, colorful hues.
Coco looked around, awed at the sight. "I guess you're feeling better?"
Rarity let out her longest sigh of the day. "Somewhat. I still need to calm down, but you have done wonders." She looked into Coco's eyes. "Thank you so much, Coco. I don't know what would have happened had you not shown up."
"Think nothing of it," Coco said, feigning poshness. More seriously, she leaned close to Rarity. "Do you... feel like coming back outside?"
Rarity shook her head. "Not yet. I'm still rather shaken. It will take me some time to re-center. To say nothing of cleaning this place up. I know I brought most of this on myself, but what has happened has happened."
Coco nodded. "I understand."
"So... I can't face Ponyville just yet," Rarity admitted. "Just the same? I don't want to be alone, either." She tilted her head nonchalantly. "Coco?"
The dull, queasy feeling Coco had experienced repeatedly today was replaced with butterflies. When had Rarity’s eyes become so easy to get lost in? "Y-yes, Rarity?"
With another glow of her horn, Rarity summoned her trusty couch. Sitting, she stretched out her forelegs.
"Could you do me a favor and just... hold me?" Rarity asked, softly. "Quite frankly, I'm having trouble believing you're not a dream. And there's no one else I'd rather have by my side right now."
With a warm blush, Coco sat on the couch, faced Rarity, and wrapped her own forelegs around her, completing the embrace.
"Just between us?" Coco said, closing her eyes and resting her head on Rarity's shoulder. "That was exactly what I thought when I first met you."
