The Dressmare and the Breezies
Coco Pommel looked down at her meager pile of bits glowing in the candlelight. She hadn’t been having a good year; her dresses had not been selling since Suri had mudslung her, providing all the costumes for the Midsummer Theater Revival had depleted her savings and she had lost her last job thanks to a unexpected cold. No, all she had left was enough material to make a simple dress and she knew that none of the rich ponies of Manehatten would ever be willing to purchase one. Her only hope was that one of her neighbours would come and give her enough bits to keep her afloat.
Coco cut the fabric out and laid it on her workbench to start with the next morning. She climbed her stairs, laid down on her bed and slowly drifted off to sleep. In the morning, after she had eaten her meager breakfast and was about to start her work, she found that the dress was resting completely finished on her ponyqin. Shocked, she levitated the dress and examined it closely. It was definitely the same material she had cut out the previous night, but this stitching was amazing. There wasn’t a single out of place stitch on the entire piece; each was tightly bond and perfectly spaced, this was similar to the kind of stitching that would appear on the finest dresses in Canterlot. Even the style was exquisite, with a flaring at the hips that would make any pony look divine.
Later that morning a mare came in, and after seeing the masterful work of the dress, paid more than twice the price Coco was going to ask for. With the bits she received, Coco was able to buy enough fabric to make two bicolour dresses, one gold and white, the other blue and black. She cut them out and laid them on her work table, with the plan to make a pair of cocktail dresses in the morning. When she awoke, she found her dresses were waiting for her on their stands. Both were of such high quality that Coco could scarcely believe they had come from her shop. When she opened up the shop, there was the very same pony she had sold her first mystery dress to, and with her was another mare. They rushed into the shop and were immediately drawn to the two dresses. The mares each bought them on the spot giving her enough money to buy fabric for four formal dresses.
The following morning, as she expected, she found the four dresses were made; and so it went on constantly — what dresses laid unfinished at night were finished by the morning. Coco tried made sure to work as hard as she could every day so that there would not be anything left over, but something always seemed to come up and some dresses were left unfinished. Work was successful, and she soon had a nest egg able to keep her afloat for months, and enough product to require an assistant manager. With Pretty Purl on hoof to handle the day to day operations and customer service, Coco could devote herself completely to designing all the dresses and outfits that she could think of. They were never quite as good as the mysterious dresses that appeared during the night, but they were still good enough to garner her a steady following of clients. She had even been commissioned to design the costumes for a new Bridleway show.
It happened that one evening not long before Hearth’s Warming Eve, when Coco had been closing up shop, she turned to her colleague, who was accounting for the day receipts, before sending her home, “What do you think about staying overnight, and see if we can find out who’s been lending me a helping hoof?”. Purl nodded and blew out the last candle, and then the two hid beneath the stairs behind a minoquin. A little while after midnight, two tiny little breezies floated down the chimney and hovered over the workbench. One was cerulean with a crimson tuft of mane, the other one was gold with a sweeping azure mane. They took the pieces of fabric on the table with the swift stitching, sewing and seaming so quickly and expertly with their little hooves that Coco did not dare look away for fear of missing a master at work.
We come every night to do what is done
We must finished the jorb before the sun
For kindness and love sleep in this place
We will lift them up to stop their disgrace
We help for now and not stop our pace
Now we fix all that is spun
Coco watched as the beautiful dresses were assembled before her eyes. It was the little things that really surprised her, how they pressed down on each stitch before starting the next one, how they made sure each fold was perfectly held in place before they seamed it, even how they took the time to align every thread on the dress to make sure that it was perfect.They did not stop until three dress were resting assembled on their ponyquins; then they quickly floated up a chimney and off into the night.
The next morning while her colleague sold dresses, Coco was thinking 'Those breezies saved my shop. There must be someway I can show them how grateful I am. It must be hard for them to flutter around like that, I think I’ll make them some little hats to wear, and coats and maybe socks'. She took the finest scraps of fabric she had and set up her snowflake glass. It took all day, but when she was done, she had two sets of outfits for the breezies and beside each, a little stuffed toy to hold, one phoenix and one dragon. That night, while Coco slept, the breezies came into work and found no fabric waiting to be finished; only the lovely little articles of clothing. They dressed themselves with a sense of glee, putting the outfits on. They danced and skipped and sang as they floated around the shop. They danced on the tables and on the ponyquins and on the counters and then the two danced right out of the shop.
The next time she left an unfinished dress on the worktable, it was not finished in the morning. Coco smiled as it seemed her littlest friends had finished what they needed to do and moved on. A few clients stopped coming when the breezies magnificent dresses were no longer available, but Coco did not mind. She hoped that wherever the Breezies were, they were happy, and that they could help some other pony who was in need of a little hope.
