Thirty-Minute Pony Stories

by Silvernis

291 : Why Yes, It Is Your Color

291: WHY YES, IT IS YOUR COLOR

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Rarity eyed the dress critically. She had to admit that it wouldn’t pass muster at the Gala, but fortunately, it didn’t have to: Ponyville was not Canterlot, and the Harvest Ball was not the Grand Galloping Gala. A ball was still a ball, though, no matter how rustic the setting, and a dress for such an occasion always merited Rarity’s full craftsponyship. The design was relatively simple but still quite stylish, if she did say so herself—the dusting of emeralds on each flank was particularly fetching—and the execution was, as usual, flawless.

She nodded, satisfied. It was about as close to perfect as she could get.

The unicorn trying on the dress didn’t seem so sure. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror, not quite frowning, but not smiling the pleased-as-punch smile of a satisfied client who’d just put on a smashing new dress.

“Is it not to your satisfaction?” Rarity asked. Long practice allowed her to keep her voice pleasant even while she braced herself for the complaints: it was too short, it was too long, the neck was too high, the shawl didn’t hang properly, the stitching was off, the gems didn’t catch the light properly, the lace was too much—

“Oh, it’s nice,” said the pony in the dress. “I mean, really, really nice. I kinda can’t believe I’m wearing an actual Carousel Boutique dress. It’s just . . . ”

Rarity bit back a sigh. Nice? Damning with faint praise, indeed. “Just what, dear?” she prompted, still pleasant.

“It’s green,” blurted the other unicorn. She pawed at the floor with one hoof, not looking at Rarity.

That was the problem? Rarity just barely managed to kept the shock off her face. “Of—of course it’s green, dear,” she said after a too-long moment. “You look absolutely divine in green! It’s very much your color.”

“Literally!” wailed the other pony. “I am green!”

“Well, yes, but that’s precisely why I chose this shade. I wanted to use a palette that would complement your natural colors. Green on green may seem a bit counterintuitive, but it really does emphasize your lovely coat and mane, and the gold accents bring out your eyes.”

“But I was kinda hoping for something a little more . . . ”

“What?”

“Well . . . pink and blue, maybe.”

“Pink and—oh.” For a fleeting moment, Rarity wanted to put her head through her desk—that was why the silly filly didn’t want green?—but she settled for sighing quietly.

“I know it’s stupid,” muttered the other unicorn.

“No, it’s not,” Rarity assured her. “It’s actually rather sweet. It’s just, well, it’s just not a very good reason for picking certain colors.”

“I thought it might . . . I don’t know. I thought Bons would like it.”

“Darling, if Bon Bon loves you—and I’m quite sure she does—then she would want you to be true to yourself.”

“Huh?”

“Lyra, your dress is about you, and you are a very pretty pony. Your dress should emphasize that, not distract from it.”

The other unicorn glanced at her uncertainly, then looked back at the mirror. “You really think I’m pretty?”

“Yes, I do,” said Rarity, meaning it. Her heart belonged to a stubborn orange apple farmer, but she could still appreciate an attractive mare when she saw one. “As I said, that’s precisely why I picked green. I daresay I could make pink and blue work on you, but what would be the point? Green really is your color.”

Lyra studied her reflection. Slowly, almost cautiously, a smile began to creep across her face until she was beaming. She turned to Rarity, nodded, and announced, “You’re right. This is perfect!”

Rarity smiled back. “I’m glad you like it, dear. Now just hold still while I make the final adjustments.”

Note to self: remind Bon Bon that green is not her color.