Picky Pepper liked to think of herself as patient, considerate, and compassionate. For Canterlot, at least. Holding a door open for somepony in this town meant an hour spent playing doorpony while the actual doorpony gave you the stink-eye. So, when confronted with something that was very clearly not a Princess Dress, she handled it with typical Canterlot compassion.
"I want the dress to be exactly like the one Princess Twilight wore. Understand?" There. Clear, concise, no room for misunderstandings or unrequested alterations. Picky even held up a magazine as a visual aid, in case the dresses filling the boutique weren't enough of a hint.
The seamstress wilted. "Yes... Y-Yes, of course." She turned and walked back into the workroom, faint music and the off-model dress trailing in her wake.
Picky rolled her eyes. Really, that mare shouldn't have been working in Canterlot if she started a sad musical number just because the customer wanted what she'd actually ordered.
Sassy Saddles zipped to Picky's side, glaring at her errant employee. "I am so sorry, Miss. I've dealt with these artistic temperaments before. They never seem to have any idea of what we do here." Sassy smiled. "One thing I will say for her is that she's very productive. As you can see, we have quite a few Princess Dresses awaiting pickup." She eyed Picky carefully and nodded to herself. "I believe we have one in your size."
Picky practically pranced in place. "Really? It's okay?"
Sassy nodded. "But of course. After all, if they're identical, who's to say which one was yours and which was somepony else's?" Her horn lit up, and one of the displayed dresses floated to Picky's side. "There will, of course, be a small service charge, but—"
Picky practically threw her money at the other unicorn. "Worth every cent!" She took the dress in her own magic, fighting the urge to hug it to her chest and wrinkle it. "Can I use your changing room?"
"But of course."
Putting on the dress was a little harder than it needed to be. Picky just couldn't keep herself from shaking in her excitement. Eventually, she swanned her way out and did a little twirl. "How do I look?"
"Radiantly regal," said Sassy.
Picky bit back her cheer. Yes. Regal. No schoolfilly gushing for her; she was an exquisite, regal mare, and she would comport herself as one. She gave a measured nod. "Thank you again, Miss Saddles."
Sassy smiled. "Thank you, Miss. Enjoy your Princess Dress."
"Oh, I shall." Picky put her nose into the air and called on all the grace she could dredge up from half-remembered dressage classes as she made her exit.
Once she was outside, she took in the crowds, and they her. Both saw the status symbol and silently acknowledged that here was a mare who moved in a better sort of herd. Picky moved into the street traffic, confident in the knowledge that she had what was hot.
The next day, the first full day wearing the Princess Dress, saw Picky showcasing it on a walk to nowhere in particular.
"Ooh! Picky! Over here!"
The call broke her out of her haze of self-satisfaction. A few unicorn mares stood in front of a house that had seen better days, and one of them—Twinkleshine, a coworker—was waving at her.
Picky smiled and strutted towards the group. "Hey, Twinkle."
"Girls," Twinkleshine said to the group, "this is Picky Pepper, one of the restaurant critics for the Herald. We usually eat together at the big name places."
Picky nodded. "I focus on the food, Twinkle on who else is there."
"I've never understood the appeal of celebrity gossip," said a pale yellow mare. "Just because they're famous, that means we automatically have the right to know every intimate detail about them?" After a beat, she added, "Um, no offense."
Twinkleshine smiled and rolled her eyes. "I know what you meant, Moondancer."
Picky held back a growl at the lack of attention and struck a pose. "So? What do you think?"
"Never really understood fashion, either," said Moondancer. "A turtleneck's always been good enough for me." She shrugged. "I guess it looks good on you, though."
"I've been seeing a lot of those lately," said another yellow mare.
"It's the Princess Dress," said Picky. "Hottest thing from the new boutique in town."
"Oh, yeah, the one Twilight's friend runs!" cried the fourth, blue mare.
Picky's jaw dropped. "You mean one of the Princess's friends runs Canterlot Carousel!?"
This got several nods. "Rarity, Bearer of Generosity," said Moondancer. "Has her own throne in Namepending Castle and everything."
Picky scoffed. "Well, we'll see how generous she is when she finds out that one of her employees was trying to pass off her knock-offs to paying customers. You fillies won't believe what happened to me in there. I ordered a Princess Dress, and some seamstress tried to sell me some tweaked version I never asked for. Plastered gems all over it, probably to try and bump up the cost. Probably works on commission." She tossed her mane. "Some ponies, am I right?"
The blue mare tilted her head. "I thought Twilight said that the only ponies working at the boutique were Sassy Saddles and Rarity herself."
Picky shrugged. "Well, given how popular the place has become, they must have hired some extra hooves. I mean, they must have hundreds of orders." She paused for a moment. "Wait. You know Princess Twilight?"
"Sure," said Twinkleshine. "We go way back."
"Oh. Huh." Picky swallowed. She wasn't going to wow anypony around here. "Um, well, good seeing you, Twinkle. Nice meeting you all." She waved and left as quickly as she could pass off as casual.
The next day was just as wonderful, and far less awkward. A cleaning spell made sure the dress was looking just as fresh, though it did need a few hours for the sinus-clearing pepper smell to wear off. Once that was done, it was another great day of seeing and being seen, reveling in being in with the in crowd.
But by the third day, Picky found that the dress was starting to feel... ordinary.
She frowned in front of her bedroom mirror and sighed. "Well, if I'm going to wear it every day, then of course it's going to feel everyday."
Picky hung up the dress and set out, still confident in the knowledge that she could be wearing a Princess Dress. She just chose not to. And really, that felt even better. She was so with it, she didn't even need to show it.
Besides, she couldn't exactly spend a lot of time out and about that day. Deadlines were deadlines, and that article on molecular gastronomancy wasn't going to write itself.
But after all the carbonized kale and cunningly restructured soy protein Picky could stomach, her column was ready, and she could spend the next day rewarding herself with another walk about town.
It felt even better after waiting a day. Picky seemed to attract far more attention, wandering from plaza to plaza as regally as possible. Indeed, it felt like there weren't as many other Princess Dresses to distract from hers.
A lot fewer, actually.
Picky's pace slowed. Her ears folded back as she started to consider the looks she was getting. There wasn't much admiration there. A lot of raised eyebrows, some thin smiles that spoke of amusement at her expense, the occasional outright snicker, but little in the way of the wide-eyed awe and envy she'd been getting only two days before.
Her legs nearly locked up. It was all she could do to keep shuffling forward once the realization hit her. She wasn't part of the hot trend anymore. She'd... she'd gone cold.
A nearby scoff drew her attention. “Is she seriously still wearing the Princess Dress?”
Picky stopped in her tracks. She very carefully didn’t look at the source of that disdainful drawl, but her ears followed it as it walked by her.
“Oh, come on, Raven! It’s still a good look.”
“It was.”
They were behind her now. She gave it another moment, then looked. For a horrible moment, she thought Celestia and Luna themselves were judging her taste from on high. Realizing that it was just two mares in beautiful, different dresses just made it worse.
Still, maybe they could help. "Excuse me?" said Picky.
Mini-Celestia jolted and turned, a surprisingly sincere and sorry smile on her muzzle. "I am so sorry. My sister—"
"Was right," Picky admitted. She tried to laugh off her anxiety. Judging by how the sisters' ears folded, she did a terrible job of it. "It has gotten a little passe, hasn't it?"
"It has," said Mini-Luna.
Picky smiled, or at least bared her teeth. "I don't suppose you could tell me where you got those dresses?"
Mini-Celestia beamed. "Aren't they great? Who knew Canterlot Carousel had such a wide selection?"
Picky's heart had already been crushed. Now the wreckage burned with shame. "Oh. You don't say."
"That Rarity is a genius," said Mini-Luna. "She took the dark beauty of my innermost essence and expressed it in a form that almost justifies the ludicrousness of the fashion industry." She narrowed her eyes. "Almost."
"She totally earned that Cosmare cover!" Mini-Celestia produced a magazine and showed it to Picky.
The fires of shame were replaced by chill dread. Gazing at her from the cover of the fashion magazine was the very pony she'd told off for trying to pass off...
An original spin. An exclusive modification. "I need to go."
"Have a nice day!"
"Memento mori."
Picky galloped to Canterlot Carousel, dignity be banished. As she raced there, she couldn't help but notice all of the different designs, all of the styles that fit their wearers so well. The Princess Dress was conspicuous only in its absence.
She didn't crash through the doors. The last thing she needed was to make an even worse impression. She looked around. There were several customers and quite a few choices, but neither was her first priority.
"Welcome to... Oh." Sassy Saddles had apparently snuck up on her. Or she was so focused that she hadn't noticed. "I remember you."
Picky drooped. "Um, hi. Could I speak to Rarity? I owe her an apology."
Sassy shook her head. "I'm afraid Rarity is currently seeing to our main store in Ponyville. Still, I'll be sure to send her the message." She gave a sad smile. "I think you and I have both learned something since you last came here."
Picky's gaze dropped to the floor. "Yeah..."
Yellow light shone at the top of her vision. Picky brought her head up in time to see a Princess Dress in Sassy’s magic. After a moment, she realized that it was just a bit different. “That’s…” She blushed.
Sassy smiled. “I can guarantee you that it is a unique Rarity original.” She put a hoof to her chin. “Though given the alterations, I suppose it can’t really be called a Princess Dress. One might call it… ‘Reign in Stain.’”
Picky blinked. “I don’t get it.”
Author's Note
This was a fun little exercise in applied karma and in using some characters I haven't gotten a chance to play with until now.
Twilight will soon learn that if you don't officially name a place, the placeholder will eventually become the name.
And I'm not sorry about that chapter title.
