> It's New And I Hate It > by Flutterpriest > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Slick New Looks > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The quiet little shop of Carousel Boutique is full of satisfied humming as its owner trots about her workroom. Rarity skips about, crafting her latest inspiration with a flourish of colorful fabrics that fly through the air and the glimmer of sequins that affix themselves to the new dress in front of her. It may be spring, but she dares to bring the glory of a radiant blue to the world, and the smile on her face shows that all is going exactly according to plan. She giggles to herself as she adjusts a few tiny pieces with her hooves, putting each little detail into place to be perfect. She takes a moment to step back from her creation, before it’s fully released to the world and marvel at what she’s created. It’s her best dress yet. Comfortable, yet sleek and stylish. Modern in every sense of the word. Truly a sight to behold. “Rarity, you’ve outdone yourself again. Everything you touch lately is absolutely marvelous. And any minute now, your latest project will-” Just then, the bell of the front door jingles, alerting the unicorn to the arrival of a customer. She nearly leaps out of her skin, her working-trance broken. “Oh! That must be him just now!” “RARITY I HAVE A FEELING YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH THIS,” screams a furious masculine voice from downstairs. “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!” Rarity pauses mid-step, dumbfounded by what she just heard. She breaks into a trot down to the show room, where her customer stands grinding his teeth. Just as she suspected, standing before her is the only human in Equestria, Anonymous. He is wearing quite the dapper black suit, with a properly iron pressed white shirt, an exquisite red Eponesian Silk tie, as well as ornate diamond cuff links. His fists are clenched, and he growls under his breath at Rarity. “Why, don’t you look marvelous, darling!” Rarity laughs hesitantly. “What is the occasion, may I ask?” “The occasion is that I HAVE NO FUCKING CLOTHES. All I have to wear are ten of these stupid tuxedos!” Anonymous screams, his face turning a deep shade of scarlet. Rarity takes a step back, eyes darting side to side. “Well, that’s quite the shame. I do say that you look quite dashing, darling. What happened to all of your clothes?” Anonymous stomps forward, eyes locked on the white horse, whose fur grew paler by the second. “That’s what I came to find out. Who in this stupid town would be able to do something like... oh, I don’t know, Custom tailor make a whole new wardrobe for me, a unique species in this world. Then, sneak into my home while I was asleep, steal all my clothes, and then replace them with dress shoes and all of-” Anonymous waves his hands over his entire body. “this?!” “That really would be a mystery,” Rarity says, turning away, a sweat dripping down her forehead. “But they sure have done you quite the justice. Those suits don’t look very cheap. A-and you don’t have those dreaded ‘denim jeans’ anymore. Especially those ones with the holes in the rear.” “THEY WERE REALLY COMFORTABLE AND PROVIDED AN EXCELLENT BREEZE!” “THEY EXPOSED YOUR REAR END, ANONYMOUS.” “AH-HAH!” Anon screams, pointing at Rarity in accusation. “Then it was you!” “YES, ANONYMOUS!” Rarity screams, whipping around on the spot. “And I would do it AGAIN! You dance about the town in your so-called casual wear on a daily basis and don’t even think for a SECOND about how the world thinks about your natural image. Ponies these days will think you for some sort of scum of the Earth unless you clean up your act and improve your image.” Anon throws his hands up in the air, shaking his head. “I don’t give a fuck about my image! I just liked things the way they were. This shit ITCHES! I can’t go to work like this-” “Dress for the job you want, Anonymous, not the job you have,” interrupts Rarity. “I PICK APPLES FOR APPLEJACK!” “And you will look quite dapper while doing so,” she says indignantly, turning her head away with a ‘Humph!’. She trots towards the front cash register, pressing button after button. “If you really don’t like them, then I suppose I can just charge you for my service to ponykind.” “I JUST WANT MY OLD CLOTHES BACK!” Anon yells. “Well, you can’t,” she says, her brow furrowed and looking to Anon once more. “I burned them. They cannot hurt anypony’s poor eyes anymore.” “YOU BURNED MY CLOTHES?!” “Yes,” she says. “I’ve done this world a service. I’ve done YOU a service. I couldn’t stand a single more day watching someone so handsome trounce about in such hideous decor.” Anonymous softens as the pony tries to catch her breath. Her blood boils as the muscles in her hooves flex. “I, uh...” Anon says quietly. “Did you just say I look handsome?” Rarity blinks for a moment, before the redness in her cheeks turn a light pink. “I said- er. I didn’t- What I meant was... That wasn’t exactly what I meant,” Rarity says, trying to catch her words from the air. Anonymous shakes his head and looks down to his new formal duds. “I suppose this isn’t... terrible. It’s a nice gift,” he says. “Thank you,” Rarity says, her focus still on the floor. “I worked very hard on it. And I thought you would like it.” “Well, Thanks, I guess. I suppose I can get used to these, but I could have used a warning or something first. But I still need some work clothes to work on the farm.” “I can do that,” she says. “I’ll have something made up by the afternoon.” “Thanks,” he says as the human moves forward and gives the unicorn a light hug. Rarity remains silent as she looks down to the floor, her face a full shade of crimson. “Also, how did you know how to make the groin area so-” “GET OUT OF MY STORE PLEASE-” the pony screams. Without a need for a second warning, Anonymous sighs and walks out of the store, his head shaking. The bell jingles once more as the door slams behind him. Rarity looks towards the window, watching Anon shove his hands in his pockets and walk down the street. She couldn’t help but remember taking his measurements once more, as she sighs a nostalgic breath. “Blue jeans it is,” she says with a sigh. “I suppose if it makes him happy, I’ll put in the work.”