The Minific Collection

by Slate Sadpony

Clear Cut

Rarity knocked gently on the door in front of her, adjusting her mane with her hoof as she waited for it to open. Inside she could hear the sound of a phonograph playing classical music. She shuffled her hooves a bit, staring at the welcome mat before turning up to look at the mare who had opened the top half-door. "Yes, hello. I'm not late am I?"

"Oh goodness no!" The mare that answered the door was aged but not old, her fur a soft tan, her cutie mark a trio of well-kept manes. "You're quite early, in fact. I wasn't going to open up the shop for another few hours."

"Yes well I was thinking that discretion might be advisable." As the older mare opened the door, Rarity followed nervously, her head flitting this way and that. "If it's all the same, I'd like this to be an anonymous donation, Mrs. Makemane."

Mrs. Makemane nodded and gestured to a barber's chair. "As you wish. Although many ponies prefer to advertise their generosity with a bald head for a few months."

Rarity climbed into the chair and closed her eyes. "That may suit other ponies, but I'd rather not crow about this sort of thing in front of the fashionistas." She caressed her mane with her hooves, and then put her hooves in her lap as Mrs. Makemane hung a cloth around her neck.

"Well, the Equestrian Cancer Society will certainly thank you for the donation. I don't think I've ever collected such a resplendent mane as a donation." Mrs. Makemane retrieved and then started a large electric hair clipper. "Now are you sure about this? Once I start I can't stop."

Rarity took a deep breath. "I'm sure." She closed her eyes tight, wincing as she felt the cold steel press firm against her skull. She could feel he hair coming off, falling down her shoulders and across her face in large, thick lines, taken off expertly in enormous bundles. She did not open her eyes again until the clippers turned off. "I want to see myself."

"Are you sure about that?" Mrs. Makemane began to collect the hair she had trimmed, gently aligning it and tying it into small bundles with hair ties. "Most ponies wait until I've put their artificial wig on."

"I'm sure." Rarity waited for the sound of a mirror being wheeled out, and then opened her eyes. She gasped slightly, putting her hoof to her mouth as she saw her head. It was as bald as one of her dress mannequins.

"Now now, don't worry, I had your wig made up last week and it is an exact copy of your old mane style." Mrs. Makemane retrieved a box from a nearby shelf and opened it, extracting the contents and placing them on Rarity's head. "See? It even straps around your horn for a more secure fit. It's a very good synthetic weave, you could go swimming in it and nopony would know."

Rarity looked at her "new" mane, tapping it gently with her hoof. It was very well made, certainly, but anypony who got a good enough look could tell it was fake. It sat on her head unnaturally, with a springiness and color that were close but not right. Still, it was better than looking like a cue-ball for the next six months. "I suppose it will do fine if I pair it with a hat." She retrieved one from her saddlebags. "A chapeau is very 'in' right now."

Mrs. Makemane frowned a little before going back to collecting and sorting the hair. "Well yes, I suppose a fancy hat would help you hide the hem line."

Rarity climbed down. "I mean no offense, it's just..." She sighed and gave Mrs. Makemane a hug. "Thank you for helping me to give this gift. I couldn't have done it without you."

Mrs. Makemane smiled again. "I suppose not everypony is as comfortable with her first wig as I was." She adjusted her mane, yanking on the edges and making sure it fit tight. "Plus those synthetics never look quite right. That's why I was so pleased when you said you were donating your mane."

"Just treat it with the care I have for the past two years." Rarity walked towards the door, pausing one last time to adjust her wig and hat. "And don't worry. I'm sure you're right, nopony will notice." Nopony but Rarity, of course. But that was a small price.

Author's Note:

My second entry into the "No Regrets" prompt.

Late at night I swung past Derpibooru and saw that the top image of the day was of Rarity crying as she held her cut mane in her hooves, apparently a story illustration for Rarity entering a nunnery and having to cut her hair. I thought of a more contemporary version instead -- of her giving up her hair as a donation to those who lost it during chemotherapy. But it was late and I was too tired to write, so I went to bed and churned this out as soon as I woke up. I hadn't even had breakfast!

I was worried that writing so early in the morning would ruin the story, but the deadline was looming and I had a busy Sunday coming up so it was do-or-die. As such I'm not sure if it works properly (the fact that I know nothing about hair donation or wig making doesn't help either) but I wanted to give it a try.

This story did not make it through preliminary voting and did not place.