Sartorial Authenticity

“Welp Rarity, ya done outdid yourself.” Applejack said. “We're overdressed and underdressed, all at the same time.”

The seven girls-turned-goddesses clustered together in a corner of Vinyl Scratch's expansive backyard, looking out at the party (which in turn hadn't noticed them yet). There were dozens of teenagers present, most of whom wore Halloween leftovers. None of their improvised costumes had the style or craftsmanship of Rarity's handiwork-- and none of them showed so much skin, either. Though at least there were a few close calls in that regard: a few other young men and women just wore domino masks or animal-ear headbands with their swimsuits as they cavorted in the backyard pool.

“There's probably a German word for that.” Twilight's voice echoed inside her crested helmet. “For being overdressed and underdressed at the same time, that is. Maybe I should look that up--” she unlocked her phone, only for Pinkie to pluck it out of her hand.

“Remember what Vinyl Scratch said in the invite, Twilight! No phones! That means we can all get super freaky, and there won't be any record of it! Woo!”

“I, uh ... I guess you're right.” Twilight fidgeted with her now-empty hands. “Not like we've got anywhere to even put them anyway ... “

“The ancient Greeks didn't have cellular telephones.” Rarity noted, primly.

“Which is why everybody else left theirs in the car.” Pinkie nodded. “I'll go put yours with everyone else's! Bee-Arr-Bee!” And with that, she bounced off down the driveway.

“Guess it's too late to turn back now, huh?” Twilight ran her hands over her thin linen shift, inadvertently making it cling to her slim, shapely form. “Even if it is a little ... drafty.”

“I, um. I kind of like it.” Fluttershy murmured from the back of the group. “Feels freeing.”

“At least it's better than those weird fruit costumes Rarity put together for the holiday card.” Rainbow Dash said.

“Thank you, Rainbow.” Rarity muttered. “But ... hmf, honestly, I'm ... embarrassed. Not for the ... revealing nature of these costumes, even if it was a little ... more than I'd intended. But ... well, for everyone else. I mean, look at them!” She swept a bangle-decorated hand over the yard. “Is that boy wearing a garbage bag? Honestly. If I'd known, I would've made costumes for everyone.”

“So you could see everybody's butt hanging out? Dang, Rarity. You're a freak.” Rainbow Dash laughed, then darted out of arm's reach.

“That's not what I-- nevermind!” Rarity huffed, and strode forward. “Let's just have a good time at this party, hm? And stay out of the pool, whatever you do. This fabric's thin enough that it'll practically turn transparent once it gets wet, in which case you might as well not even have bothered with a costume to begin with.”

“Oh my.” Fluttershy bit at her lower lip.

“Now then, ladies-- let's make an entrance, shall we?”

And they did.

Rarity held her chin up high as she swept into the party, carrying herself with the divine poise of an ancient love-goddess. A warm breeze ruffled the hem of her chiton, and pressed its pleats against Rarity's flawless, ivory-white skin. Despite the warm summer temperatures, the peaks of her nipples still tented the soft fabric, as each step rubbed the soft linen against the sensitive nubs. She at least took solace in the fact she'd shaved that very morning-- any purple hair at the apex of her legs would have stood out against the filmy fabric, should the light hit it the right way.

Which, at least at that moment, it didn't. Vinyl Scratch's backyard was dimly lit by chains of hanging deck lights, offering more ambiance than illumination. Most of the partiers clustered around the pool, while Vinyl Scratch herself held court from behind a stack of speakers, turntables, and mixers. The DJ wore a hooded set of unicorn pajamas with the zipper pulled down low enough to show a deep v of pale flesh beneath. As Rarity and her pantheon/entourage entered, Vinyl Scratch waved their way, then cued up a new song: a bombastic techno-remix of an old sword-and-sandal movie's theme song.

The partiers looked over, then cheered at the newcomers. Rarity smiled, any trepidation she might've had from her scandalous attire instantly melting away at the applause. After all, Rarity knew even the most outlandish of outfits (or perhaps lack thereof, in her case) could be pulled off as long as one owned it. And so, with a flip of her carefully coiled hair, she strode forward. She made a quick circuit of the party, greeting friends and acquaintances. Apart from a few blushing, lingering glances, most of the other partiers didn't seem to find Rarity's revealing outfit all that out of the ordinary. Had she been the only one in such revealing attire, it would've been embarrassing. But with her best friends matching her style, Rarity had established a trend. And so, Rarity and her friends split off into little pairs and trios, circulating amongst the other costumed teenagers.

“Hey Rarity, want a drink?” Applejack asked as she rummaged through a large cooler not too far from Vinyl Scratch's DJ podium. As the farmer-turned-farm-goddess bent over, the back of her skirt rode up, revealing her tight, toned ass.

Rarity bit her lower lip, and stepped in closer, all the better to block the other partygoers' view of Applejack's rear. Rarity clenched her fingers, momentarily wondering what it would be like to run her palm over the curve of Applejack's--

“Uh. Iced tea, if you please.”

“Comin' right up!” Applejack stood, a bottle of iced tea in one hand, and an obligatory cider in the other.

“Thank you, darling.” Rarity carefully took the cold bottle, and flicked some of the moisture from it. She supposed a fancy goblet of some kind would have fit her costume better, but there was no helping that now. “And like I said before, do be careful about getting your chiton wet. Unless you're feeling, ah, exhibitionistic.”

“Right now, I'm just feelin' thirsty.” Applejack twisted the cap off her cider and took a long swig.

Rarity's gaze briefly fell to Applejack's chest, barely contained by the thin fabric of her gown. “You're not the only one.” She murmured, and then forced her eyes to her iced tea, which she opened. The cool, refreshing liquid was exactly what Rarity needed for her suddenly dry mouth.

“Hah, you're right there. It's gonna be a hot summer, I can feel it.” Applejack took another swig of her cider, then looked out over the party. “Almost enough to make me wish I'd brought my swimsuit. Don't think I've busted the trunks out since spring break.”

“You can blame Vinyl Scratch, I suppose-- her invitation asked everyone to come in costume, but didn't mention she had a pool.” Rarity sighed. “But, there's nothing to be done about it now, except--”

“CANNONBALL!”

Rarity spun around as she heard the familiar, exuberant voice shout. And sure enough, there was the pink blur of one Pinkamena Diane Pie, still in her Dionysus outfit, bouncing her way across the diving board before launching herself into the air.

Rarity gasped out a “Pinkie, no!” but it was too late.

The pink haired girl curled herself into a ball and splashed into the water. Cheers erupted from the rest of the crowd at the display. Pinkie Pie surfaced a second later, laughing. She lazily swam over to the side of the pool and climbed out.

Pinkie shook her head, and her frizzy, untamed hair sprung back into shape, throwing off the water. Her chiton, however, was far less resilient.

Soaked to the point of transparancy, the thin chiton clung to every inch Pinkie's heavy, jiggly tits. The circles of her areolas were plainly visible, thick nipples pressing against the wet, gauzy fabric. Almost every detail of Pinkie's body was left on display, from the curve of her belly, to the divot of her navel, to the swell of her hips.

“Pinkie!” Rarity gasped. “What are you doing? Didn't I tell you what would happen if you got your outfit wet?”

“Nope!” Pinkie Pie said with her usual blithe cheeriness.

“I know I-- wait. You were putting Twilight's phone in the car, weren't you?” Rarity rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “Now, just ... come with me and we'll see about finding you something else to wear.”

“Um. Why?” Pinkie Pie said.

“Oh. You haven't noticed, have you?” Rarity sighed, and took Pinkie's hand, attempting to tug her away from the edge of the pool-- and from the staring eyes of the rest of the party. “It's ... well, you might as well be nude right now, Pinkie.”

“I am?” Pinkie Pie looked down at herself, then tugged at her soaked chiton. “Huh! You're right! I might as well get naked!”

“That's not what I--”

“WOO!” In a flash, Pinkie Pie peeled out of her dress, then twirled the fabric around her head in a circle. She bounced on the balls of her feet, which caused the rest of her to bounce in turn. “Can ya hold on to this for a sec, Rarity?”

“Hold on to-- ah!” Rarity sputtered as Pinkie Pie tossed the sodden mess of her wadded up chiton to her. Rarity fumbled and caught it, instinctively clutching the bundle of wet fabric to her chest-- only to feel the cool water immediately start soaking into her own dress, a contrast to the hot blush rising in her cheeks.

“NAKED CANNONBALL!” Pinkie Pie cried, bounding towards the diving board once again, accompanied by a mixed chorus of gasps and cheers.

The one silver lining, Rarity realized was that Pinkie's streaking was even more distracting than usual, giving Rarity the opportunity to act before she gave the rest of the party an eyeful. And so, she quickly moved to cover herself with the closest thing available.

Applejack.

Rarity dashed behind the farmer, wrapping her arms around her waist. She pressed herself against Applejack's back. Her strong, warm, tantalizing--

Rarity cleared her throat.

“Uh, hi?” Applejack looked over her shoulder at the blushing fashionista.

“Applejack, I need you!” Rarity blurted, then added on, quickly: “To get me inside, that is. To find some dry clothing or a towel or somesuch.”

“I hear ya.” Applejack nodded. “Might as well make that two sets of dry britches, though. Y'all probably already got the back of this fancy-pants bedsheet wetter than a frog's elbow. Gonna moon the whole dang party if I ain't careful.”

“I ... oh.” Rarity glanced downward at her own soaked chest-- and the wadded up bundle of Pinkie's costume, now sandwiched between her belly and the small of Applejack's back. “Sorry?”

“Ain't nothin' to be done 'bout it. Now c'mon, let's go 'fore somebody thinks we've gotten glued together.”

And so, the two of them slipped into Vinyl Scratch's house, while the raucous party continued outside.