Dresses to Wear in Spring
Rarity tossed another sheet of sketch paper into the waste bin. A new, blank sheet laid in front of her. Her horn glowed and the black pencil drew lines until those lines looked like a mare. Then she attempted to draw a dress, a shirt, blouse, shoes, but it didn’t look as well as she thought. Rarity groaned, then tossed that sheet away, and drew on a new one. She focused all of her energy, all of her concentration, steadily placed the tip of the black pencil on the paper, but something was blocking her from continuing. After a few moments Rarity was frustrated, and begrudgingly crumbled the sheet and threw it aside her.
“Why can’t I make anything?” she grumbled to herself. Rarity grew tired of trying to force herself to draw, and decided instead to berate herself for not trying hard enough.
Two ponies entered her workspace, although Rarity didn’t notice them. However, they were two ponies she knew greatly. Their names are Twilight Sparkle and Applejack, a unicorn and an earth pony respectively, and two of Rarity’s best friends. They watched Rarity as she mumbled to herself.
“I haven’t seen Rarity this busy since I don’t know when,” said Applejack. “You think she’s out of that designer’s block she keeps talking about?”
“I don’t know,” said Twilight.
She and Applejack cautiously stepped forward, silently. Rarity tossed away one more sheet of paper, then lower her head on her desk in shame. She began to cry. “Rarity… is everything alright?” asked Twilight.
Rarity looked to see Twilight and Applejack behind her. She wanted to be happy to see happy to see her friends, but her spirit was crushed.
“Oh Twilight, oh Applejack! This is dreadful, oh so terribly, terribly dreadful!” she cried. “This is the worst case of designer’s block I have ever had! I can’t think of anything no matter how hard I try!”
Twilight used her magic to give Rarity a piece of tissue to wipe her eyes. She blew her nose into it as well. “I’m sure it’s not that. You probably just have a dry spell,” said Twilight.
“Not that bad? This is more than just a dry spell, as you say! The last dry spell I had lasted for twenty-four hours, and that was three years ago! This is designer’s block rearing its ugly head to yet another poor artist! It’s madness I tell you, madness!” Rarity sobbed, tears flowed from her eyes, which turned black from the melting eyeliner. “I feel so helpless!” she cried.
Applejack gave Rarity another piece of tissue to clean her face. “Well, Twilight and I were just about to invite you to lunch,” she said. “Maybe you’ll feel better if you went out with us for a while.”
“But… my work,” said Rarity. “I must keep working! Spring has been here for a week and I haven’t created an ensemble! I have to rid myself of this terrible block I’m trapped in!”
Applejack gazed at the crumbled pieces of paper in the waste bin, and some that were scattered on the floor. “Trust me, taking a break will do you some good,” she said.
Rarity to speak, but realized Applejack was right. For weeks she was stressing herself out, trying to get her hooves and mind on the right track with no success. With nothing else to say, lunch it was.
The three mares arrived at a small restaurant. Twilight chose a table in the courtyard. Rarity softly mumbling to herself along the way, and she spoke very low that not even Applejack could hear her. When they were seated at the table she chose to be silent.
“So… nice weather we’re having,” said Applejack, trying to lighten the mood. “I wouldn’t be surprised how mild it is since Spring just came.”
Rarity glanced at Applejack for a moment when she mentioned what season it was. Then she sighed softly. Twilight and Applejack exchanged looks, not too sure of what to say. Silence stayed with them as more time passed.
“I never miss a deadline until now,” Rarity finally said. “I was always ahead of everything, never missing a mark. Now it has come to this.”
“You’re still the best,” said Twilight. “Things like this happens to every pony in your profession.”
“But it hardly ever happens to me. There was never a time where my muse abandoned me. I can not remember when I found myself unable to creatively express myself for long periods of time to the point of insanity. I never have to search for inspiration, because it always came to me.”
“How long has it been?” asked Twilight.
“Weeks, and I fear it will grow into months,” answered Rarity, gravely.
“Don’t you think this designer’s block thing might be in your head?” asked Applejack.
Rarity gave her a look. “Of course not! If it was a psychological problem I would have found a resolve by now, but I don’t!” she answered sharply.
“I was just asking,” said Applejack.
Rarity soften her face. “I apologize for my tone. I have been absolutely stressed in attempting to work on something. All my efforts have failed, as you can see.”
A unicorn waiter trotted to their table with their food. When Rarity’s salad was placed on the table, she slowly cut at it with a fork and knife. She only ate a slice of tomato before spending the entire time staring at her food, then into space.
“What do you think is causing your designer’s block?” asked Twilight.
“I don’t know,” said Rarity. “But I do know this - it is a horrible experience. No artistic pony must endure this travesty.” She only ate a small portion of her salad before continuing. “For weeks it has felt as though some part of me has withered away into oblivion.”
“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating just a tad bit?” said Applejack.
“Please Applejack, try to understand… fashion has always been my life’s calling, even before I realized it will be. Being a fashion designer is not just about designing clothes or following the latest trends. I have always been the most creative and artistic in my family. I pride myself in seeing beauty in everything. I live through my work as a fashion designer. It’s an art I take seriously. But now my skills have been hindered, and a special part of me has gone away… and I don’t know where.”
“When was the last time you made a dress?” asked Twilight.
Rarity sighed again, and then silence, but for a brief moment she seem as though she was at peace with herself. “Last month,” she answered. “I was in Manehattan. It was a birthday dress commissioned by socialite Auriola Trottingham. Oh, you should have seen her when she entered the Manehattan Boutique. She’s just as gorgeous and breathtaking up close. The photographs of her do not do her any justice. Anyway, she paid me to weave a dress for her birthday. The dress in question was magnificent. It was sky blue that shimmered in white diamonds, like something out of a fairy tale. It took me a long time to make it. Then… she came to pick it up.”
Twilight and Applejack exchanged glances. “What happened?” they asked.
“I presented the dress to Auriola. She seemed pleased with it. She even smiled that beautiful smile at me, told me she liked it very much. Then she went about her way.”
“Well, if this Auriola character said it was nice it must be a good thing, right?” asked Applejack.
“I have not arrived at the worst part,” said Rarity. She opened her mouth to speak again, but she couldn’t get the words out. Her lips quivered.
“You don’t have to tell us,” said Twilight.
Rarity raised her hoof, then collected herself. “One day… one morning - it was the weekend after her birthday party… I was reading a magazine. On the cover was Auriola Trottingham in all her glory… but she wasn’t wearing the dress I made for her. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was betrayed, heartbroken. All of my hard work, all of my blood, sweat and tears, my very soul, tossed aside like yesterday’s garbage!”
Rarity began to weep. Twilight gently placed her hoof on top of her friend’s. “That was a terrible to do somepony so generous as you,” she said.
“Who cares about what some stuck-up pony who spends her time with her snout high in the air thought about your dress?” said Applejack. “What’s important is that you’re proud of the work you put into that dress.”
“But I’m not proud of myself,” said Rarity. “Seeing Auriola opt out of my dress for… somepony else’s means that I’m not good enough. It means that I’m a failure in her eyes. What is worse is that she couldn’t tell me the truth.”
“Don’t call yourself a failure,” said Twilight. She placed a firm grip on Rarity’s hoof. “Everyone knows you’re the best dressmaker in all of Equestria.”
“I haven’t made anything since that awful morning,” sighed Rarity. “I don’t think I can ever be inspired again.”
Silence passed through them once more. Rarity took out her little purse and tossed some bits on the table. Before she got up to leave Applejack stopped her by grabbing her white foreleg.
“Rarity, I’m your best friend, you know that, right?” she said. “And as your best friend I’m obliged to be honest with you. It seems to me the reason you’re trapped in this here block of yours’ is that you’ve wrapped yourself around the opinion of just one pony. Look, I know this is important to you. I’d probably react the same way if it happened to me. And I may not understand all that much about high class society or fashion, but you shouldn’t let what that Auriola filly did get to you. Ponies like her do anything they want without considering the feelings of others, and it’s always going to be that way. And because of this, you’re working yourself to death in order to please the next pony who wants your business. Instead of trying to please everypony, why not please yourself? It’s times like this where you have to take a step back and remember what’s really important, and why you love to make those pretty dresses. That’s all I have to say. Take from it what you will.”
Rarity said nothing, and the two mares locked eyes. Twilight grew nervous, thinking Applejack’s words of encouragement might be taken the wrong way. Then, Rarity nodded and said, “I understand.” She gave a sad smile, then walked away.
At the day’s end Rarity returned home after closing her workshop. She spent the rest of the evening, and all through the night in her bedroom, drawing doodles in her sketchbook. Rarity thought about what Applejack said. It was brutally honest, but that was what the farmpony was known for, and she thought how lucky she was to have a good friend such as her. Was she really obsessed with the opinion of one pony? But that one pony was an influential member of the Manehattan elite. Her opinion matters to those of similar status. Rarity groaned and closed her notebook. She lied on her bed and begged for her muse to return when someone entered her room.
“Oh, Sweetie Belle. It is only you,” she said.
“Is it okay that I stay with you until it’s time for bed?” the filly asked.
“Of course,” answered Rarity.
Sweetie joined her sister on the bed. Rarity grabbed the notebook and looked through the pages, then sighed. Her little sister caught a glimpse of the sketches in her book.
“Do you still have designer’s block?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“I do, unfortunately. I have never experienced anything like this in years. I was hoping it will go away before Spring came along, but…” Rarity trailed off, and made a sad whimper. “It’s hopeless.”
“I heard you say something about… a muse. What’s a muse?”
“A muse is a goddess, or rather goddesses, in ancient Equestrian mythology who were the sources of inspiration for artists, poets, performers, storytellers… creative ponies like me. I always thought I had my own personal muse over the years.”
“Why do you need somepony else to give you inspiration? Isn’t the whole of being an artist is that you make things yourself?”
“Sweetie, I know it’s a silly thing to believe in now, it’s just… well, it’s a complicated matter. Trust me, Sweetie Belle, I try not to wait for inspiration. But for some reason I fail whenever I try to get myself work again. But I guess you’re right. It’s no use calling on the muse now. She has disappeared. Or was she even there at all?”
“There’s a filly at school I’m friends with who likes to write stories and draw comics. And she’s a great drawer too, but I guess that’s the same thing. She likes to show me her work. When I ask her how she comes up with her ideas, she says she makes up stuff and writes and draws whatever comes into her mind,” said Sweetie.
“Darling, her situation is different. Your friend is only a child, I’m an adult whose career is hanging by a thread.”
“What I’m trying to say is that she likes to have fun. She told me she doesn’t care what anypony thinks of her work, she likes to do it because it brings her joy. Then I started to think; maybe you can get rid of your designer’s block if you learn to have fun again.”
Rarity sighed and wrapped her fore arm around her little sister. “I wish it were that simple.”
No other words were exchanged. Sweetie noticed the sketchbook that lied on top of the blankets beside her. An idea came to her.
“Rarity, can you take the weekend off?” she asked.
“Why?”
“I want to have a fashion show, with just you and me, and maybe mom and dad if they’re interested.”
“But Sweetie, there is so much work to be done. I can’t just -”
Sweetie Belle gave Rarity those wide eyes she always gave when she wanted something very badly. Rarity was going to refuse her, then two things happened. She didn’t know what the future will have for her, or whether if she’ll ever be lifted from the curse of designer’s block. Also, there was no possible way she can say “no” to her little sister’s sweet face. Rarity stroked Sweetie Belle’s hair.
“Okay… alright, dear. We’ll have our own private fashion show. Just you and me,” she said.
The sisters sealed their arrangement with a hug. It was at that moment the unicorn realized she hadn’t been embraced with affection in a long time. She had almost forgotten how wonderful it felt to receive a hug from someone she loved. Soon it was 9:30, Sweetie’s bedtime, so they kissed each other goodnight.
Rarity held her sketchbook and flipped to a random page and found a rough sketch of the dress she made for Auriola Trottingham. She shook her head disappointingly and turned to a blank page. A black art pencil levitated to her and she began to draw. This time Rarity decided to draw herself in a dress she would love to wear during a beautiful day in Spring. She smiled when her sketch was complete.
