Sartorial Authenticity

“Toga! Toga! Toga!” Pinkie Pie bounced around the Rarity's workshop, even more excitable than usual. The rest of her friends lazed around the room, waiting for their own fittings for the evening's costume party. For once, Pinkie Pie wasn't the one throwing it-- apparently, Vinyl Scratch's parents were out of town, at which point she had immediately invited the entirety of the just-graduated senior class over for one last post-graduation, pre-college bash. Costumes required.

Rarity rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “For the last time, Pinkie-- it's a chiton. Togas are Roman. We're going for Greek.”

“Same difference, right?” Pinkie Pie said. “Buncha bedsheets and sandals and stuff?”

“Hmf!” Rarity held up a square of immaculate-white linen, embroidered with gold-colored thread around the edge. “While the Romans certainly did draw artistic inspiration from the ancient Greeks, there are still notable differences between the two. And I shall settle for nothing less than perfection in my craft, you know that.”

“Technically, we're dressing up like Greek mythology.” Twilight looked up from her sci-fi paperback. “So doesn't that give us a little bit of, uh, artistic license?”

“Perhaps.” Rarity said. “But I also have an artistic vision.” Rarity said. “Inspiration, even-- which is how I was able to put all these costumes together under such short notice.”

“Thanks again for that, by the way.” Sunset Shimmer said.

“Don't thank me yet, darling. As the costumes won't be complete until I make a few final touches. And I can't make those touches until you put them on. And you can't put them on when you won't stop moving. Pinkie.”

“Oh! Right!” Pinkie Pie zipped over to Rarity's sewing machine, then gently ran her fingers over the fabric. “Ooooo. Pretty.” She paused, then glanced up at Rarity. “Buuuuut, uh-- how do I put it on?”

“Ah, of course-- you're used to modern fashion. Here, I can show you--”

“Okie dokie!” Pinkie Pie said, and immediately peeled out of her t-shirt, revealing a polka-dotted bra valiantly holding her ample chest in place.

Rarity blinked, and her cheeks began to turn redder as she found her field of vision filled by Pinkie's abundant decolletage. “I, ah ... I do have a privacy screen, for such matters--”

“Why bother?” Pinkie Pie wriggled out of her jeans, next, revealing a matching set of polka-dotted boxer shorts. “It's just like they say-- what's a little booty between friends?” She proceeded to bend over and wiggle her butt at the rest of the room.

“I, uh ... I don't think anybody says that.” Applejack said.

“Well, they should!” Pinkie Pie noted. “Besides, we've only got like two hours before the costume party, so why waste time?”

“She, um. She might have a point.” Fluttershy bit her lower lip and pulled Rarity's cat Opal closer against her chest.

“Eh, not like we haven't seen Pinkie's butt before anyway.” Rainbow Dash said with a little shrug.

“Well, alright then.” Rarity said. “I just thought I'd offer you the option, that's all.” Rarity pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, then set about getting to work. She draped the soft linen over Pinkie's body and carefully pinned the fabric in place in a precise imitation of a classical sculpture. Rarity's needle-calloused fingers briefly grazed over her friend's plush curves, eliciting a bubbly giggle from the party girl. A sash of pink, matched carefully to Pinkie's hair, went around her waist, cinching in the chiton in a manner that accented the swell of her heavy breasts. The hem of the chiton's 'skirt' stretched about halfway down Pinkie Pie's thick thighs, more than enough to render her decent-- so long as she stood still. Rarity moved to Pinkie's hair, next, braiding a length of plastic ivy and a few plastic grapes into the wild tangle of her mane.

“I'm telling you, Pinkie, you'll make a wonderful Dionysus, and--” She trailed off as she got a second look at the costume. “Oh. Oh no. We're ruined! Ruined! How could I have made such a foolish mistake?”

“What?” Pinkie Pie blinked, blithe but supportive.

“Augh! I should have known!” Rarity reeled back, as if struck. “I was so concerned about finding just the right sort of linen that I hadn't considered the implications--”

“What are you talking about?”

“Pinkie--” Rarity sniffled, and clasped her friend's hands in her own. “The fabric is too thin. I ... I can see your underwear.”

“You can?” Pinkie Pie said, and looked down at herself. Sure enough, the bright polka-dots of her bra and boxers stood out incongruously beneath the diaphanous fabric. “Is that all? Guess I just won't wear underpants, then!” And with that, Pinkie Pie hitched up the hem of her chiton and pulled down her boxers, at which point she tossed them across the room. Soon her bra followed suit as Pinkie somehow managed to wriggle out of it without disturbing the careful pleating of her chiton.

“Woo!” Pinkie Pie bounced in place, causing her chest to wobble. With her underwear gone, the thin linen clung even more closely to her voluptuous form, tenting around the points of her stiff nipples. “Wow, this is a lot more comfortable! Not to mention historically accurate! I mean, not like ancient Greekland had elastic, am I right?”

“That is ... technically correct, I suppose.” Rarity ceded.

“Yay! The best kind of correct!” Pinkie said.

“But I can't ask any of you to attend a party exposed like that.” Rarity shook her head, and sniffed again. “I'm sorry, I've ruined everything-- you'll all be better off just getting cheap masks from the dollar store. Just leave me here, so I may wallow in my failuuuuuure!” The seamstress broke into full sobs, throwing herself backwards onto a conveniently placed couch.

“But what if we want to go like this? I mean, I don't mind! And I bet everybody else won't, either!” Pinkie Pie looked meaningfully over her shoulder at the rest of her friends. “Right, guys?”

A brief silence fell over Rarity's workshop.

“Y'know what, you can just call me Arnie, 'cause I'm goin' commando.” Rainbow Dash finally said. “Or, ooh-- maybe we could all just go as different Arnold Schwarzeneggers instead? I could be Commando Arnie, Applejack could be Conan Arnie, Pinkie Pie could be, like ... Jingle All the Way Arnie, and--”

“--I think the Greek thing may be the better idea.” Sunset Shimmer said. “I mean, Pinkie does look comfortable. And it's not like ponies bothered wearing much back where I'm from.”

“While there is evidence that the ancient Greeks sometimes did wear loincloths or chest-wrappings, it'd probably be just as historically accurate to go without.” Twilight fiddled with her glasses to cover her blush.

“Or, um. Aren't there a lot of statues and paintings and other culturally important works of art where the Greek gods are, y'know ... naked?” Fluttershy murmured from behind a curtain of pink hair. “Not that I'm saying we should. You know. Be naked. Even if it might be really, um, liberating. And naughty. Libernaughty. But if everyone else is wearing Rarity's costumes I don't want them to go to waste.”

“Aw hell.” Applejack shook her head. “Says somethin' that this ain't gonna be the craziest outfit y'all corralled us into, Rarity.”

Rarity sat up and dabbed tears from the corner of her eye with a silk handkerchief. “Wait ... so you're all telling me that you still want to wear my costumes, even if they're ... scandalous?”

“Nope!” Pinkie Pie plopped down beside Rarity and draped an arm around her shoulders. “We're telling you that we want to wear these costumes because they're scandalous! Now c'mon everybody! Strip down, so Rarity can get you dressed up!”

And just like that, Rarity switched from 'melodramatic breakdown' to 'whirlwind professional.' She flitted from one friend to the next, adorning them-- transforming them –until they were properly divine. The filmy, semi-transparent chitons did wonders to highlight her friends' bodies, each perfect in its own way. The linen clung to curves in some places, and draped loosely in others. The semi-transparent nature of the fabric offered tantalizing peeks at the young women beneath: glimpses that each of them was more than happy to offer, by the way things were going.

And as impressive as that was, Rarity was most proud of the props she'd acquired for each costume. A winged helmet and sandals for Rainbow's Hermes. A bow and a quiver of blunted arrows for Fluttershy's Artemis. A crested helmet and a stuffed owl for Twilight's Athena (the helmet even fit on over her glasses). Sunset Shimmer's Apollo got a small harp. Finally, Applejack's Demeter was crowned with a bough of spring flowers and wheat-stalks.

As Rarity pinned fabric or braided hair, she couldn't help but get a little thrill from it. There was the satisfaction of a job well done, of course-- but the knowledge that every piece of her friends' costumes, down to the underwear (or, more specifically, the lack thereof) was her doing just added new spice to it. It was as if her friends had become her willing toys, pliant dolls to be decorated and displayed however she saw fit--

“Uh. Earth to Rarity?” Applejack snapped her fingers in front of Rarity's eyes, at which point the fashionista realized she'd been staring at the solid musculature of the farmgirl's shoulders for ... quite some time.

“Oh! Right. Sorry. Just, uh ... spaced out there for a moment, that's all.” She drew her hands away from Applejack's (lovely, freckled) skin as if she'd been scalded. “Easy to lose track of things when you're busy, you know?”

“Mmmmhm.” Applejack said. “Just like gettin' in the zone in the middle of the harvest.”

“Something like that?” Rarity offered. She glanced over at her other friends-turned-goddesses, who happily showed off their new outfits for each other, like something out of a classical painting (if one could ignore their smartphones). “But ... it's worth it, I'd say.”

“I dunno if I'd speak so soon, Rarity.” Applejack said. “I mean, you ain't even got your costume on yet.”

“Oh!” Rarity looked down at her decidedly contemporary blouse-and-skirt combo. “I suppose you're right. I'd better get my own costume on before the party.”

“Which one of these old-timey ladies you gonna be?” Applejack reached up and fiddled with one of the delicate flowers braided into her blonde hair.

“Isn't it obvious?” Rarity smiled as she started to undo her blouse. “I shall be Aphrodite.”