Z Z Top Rarity.

>You are Octavia, and you’re standing outside the latest fashion shop to open up in Canterlot. One ‘Canterlot Carousel’, owned and operated by somepony named ‘Rarity’.
>Your bow tie had ripped and you needed a new one.
>With the success you’d started enjoying with the orchestra, you figured it was high time to invest in a new one, so why not come see what the new place had to offer?
>They might not even sell them, but you figured it was worth a visit. It was new, and you should try to keep up on the latest things.
>You step inside to see a rather sizable crowd milling about.
>Many of them were hunting for something specific, so you just wandered where they weren’t and observed the clothes hung up everywhere.
>You’d heard the place only sold the ‘Princess Dress’ for the first week or so it opened, but the proprietor, Rarity, hadn’t enjoyed it, so it almost closed.
>You understood the sentiment.
>Playing the same song, no matter how nice it was at first, always got old after a while if there were no changes in between.
>Now it looked like there was quite a selection on hoof, and none of it was the same tacky style you always saw around Canterlot. It was rather refreshing.
>You wander around the boutique, searching for any bowties or collars like the ones you usually wore.
>As you make your way through the place, it seems evident that they might not actually carry what you were looking for here.
>You’re looking at a selection of ribbons, hoping there was a bow tie somewhere in there, when you’re approached by a tall, light-blue unicorn.
>”Can I help you find anything miss?”
“Oh, yes of course. I recently tore my last bow tie and I was looking for a new one. Do you happen to carry those?”

>The mare thinks for a moment, one hoof pressed against her mouth in thought.
>”I don’t think we do, actually.”
>Her horn lights up and she sorts through the ribbons, chokers, and other accessories you had been sifting through, floating them about in quick circles.
>”If we did, you’d have found one in here, so in all likelihood, we do not. However, you’re in luck! Rarity is here, and could whip one up for you rather quickly if you’d like.”
“Oh, really? That would be nice. That would save me searching around Canterlot for another.”
>She ushers you over toward the back of the boutique. “We always seek to make sure every customer is pleased with our products, and Rarity is always happy to help a pony in need.”
>She knocks lightly on a door at the back, and you hear a muffled “Come in.”
>Sassy bows her head slightly at you, opens the door, then heads off back to help other customers.
>You’re left alone at the door, and you look back as the mare retreats, then look into the room ahead.
>It’s filled with fabric, sewing supplies, pin cushions, ponnequins, and all sorts of things you can’t even name, but are probably important for sewing clothes.
>You step inside and see a pony, dressed in a finely tailored suit, bent over a table. His mane and tail were exquisitely curled, and were a rich, deep-blue colour.
>He turns away from the table he was working at, gently placing all manner of scissors, pins, and fabric down on the table, then smiles at you.
>”Yes, how can we, at the Canterlot Carousel, assist you today? I assume if you didn’t find what you were looking for on the floor, Sassy sent you to me for something custom-made, correct?”
>He had bright blue eyes, and was he wearing makeup? Well it worked on him, either way.
“Um… yes. I was just looking to get a bowtie and collar. My old one has since worn out.”
>You pull the bedraggled thing out of your saddlebag and show it to him.

>Rarity picks it up and looks it over. The rip on it tore one side of the bow entirely off so it hung to one side. Not something that could simply be patched, or you would have attempted it. The whole thing would fall apart if you tried to untie it or repair it now.
>”Well, this is simple enough to make. I can have a new one for you in about ten minutes if you don’t mind waiting. It will be only two bits if that’s okay.”
“Oh! That would be wonderful! Yes, please!”
>Rarity smiles and his horn lights up with a glow almost the same colour as his eyes, pulling a roll of lavender fabric out and picking up some scissors to cut it up. He begins to work while he chats with you.
>”I must say, I love the colour choice. It really matches your eyes and cutie mark. Have you ever considered a suit?”
>You smile sadly.
“I have, yes. But I would only get to wear it on the rare occasion I get to do a performance solo or with a smaller group that would agree to wear them. I don’t get many offers for the former, and the latter, well… most ponies don’t enjoy suits. We’d need to match.”
>”Oh, I do know the feeling. Getting a group to coordinate and get matching outfits can be quite trying sometimes. Especially when they all want completely different things.”
>He deftly pulls apart your old tie and measures it, getting the right amount of fabric pulled out for your new tie.
>”How much would you charge for a solo performance, and I suppose I should ask what instrument you play as well.”
“Oh, I play the cello. I wouldn’t charge much for a solo performance. The price would depend on how long you would want me here for. It would be here at the boutique, I would assume?”
>”Yes, indeed. Something for the patrons to listen to while they shop, maybe get them in the mood while they look around, as it were.”

>Rarity finishes sewing the bow together with a flourish of magic.
>”Now, did you want it to be tied already, or would you like to tie it yourself?”
“Um, I’d much prefer it if it were already tied. That would save my hooves a lot of trouble.”
>You point at your forehead, pointedly.
>”Ah, yes, of course.”
>Rarity deftly ties the bow, much more cleanly than you could have ever managed, and comes close to you, holding a measuring tape and the fabric for the collar out.
>”Do excuse me a moment darling, I just need some simple measurements.”
“Oh, yes of course.”
>He wraps the measuring tape around your neck, ducking down just under your chin.
>You can smell his hair, some exotic fragrance wafting into your nostrils.
>It smelled sort of like cinnamon. Familiar, yet unusual.
>”Thank you, my dear.”
>He pulls away with the measuring tape held at two separate points, he quickly measures out the collar, cuts it, and attaches a simple hook for you.
>”Finished! Do try it on, let me know how you like it.”
>He floats it over to you, and you pluck it out of the air. It looked almost exactly like your old one, but much higher quality than when you’d acquired the old one.
>You wrap it around your neck, fasten it, and twist your head in every direction you normally would.
>It didn’t pinch you, choke you, or make you uncomfortable at all.
>Perfect.
“This is absolutely lovely, Rarity. How much did you say it was again?”
>”Just two bits, darling. So long as you promise to come by again so that we might discuss your schedule for a performance at the shop, hmm?”
>You pull out two bits and hoof them to Rarity, who takes them from your outstretched hoof with magic.

“Of course! I would be more than happy to do so. I can’t promise anything soon, but I can promise I’ll be by tomorrow. Probably late.”
>”Fabulous! I shall be here looking forward to your visit.”
>Rarity winks at you, and turns back to his sewing table, his magic picking everything up once again.
>Your heart jumps a little bit at the wink, but you turn and shut the door as you leave.
>Sassy Saddles waves to you as you move through the shop, and you give her a nod as you make your way outside.
>This was a curious, but fruitful, visit.
>A gig at the most popular new shop in town, and an extremely cheap new tie.
>Not to mention the proprietor!
>That alto voice, that style, that scent, and that skill!
>You’d never admit it out loud, but you were completely crushing on Rarity.
>You couldn’t wait to see him again.

>The following day, immediately after your performances were done, you drop off your cello at home, grab a hastily written schedule you’d scratched out to give to Rarity, and quickly trotted on over to the Carousel.
>It was evening, so there weren’t too many ponies there, but Sassy Saddles pointed you to the back and told you to go ahead.
>”Rarity can usually be found there when he’s here. He’ll come out to the floor when he’s finished something new and show it off, usually persuading somepony to buy it within a day, but otherwise he’s always creating. He was talking about you today, so go on ahead.”
“Thank you very much.”
>You head to the same door at the back and knock twice.
>”Come in, darling. I’ve been expecting you.”
>You crack open the door, looking toward the table as you slip inside.
>Rarity is once again furiously working on something, tools buzzing about his head in a flurry.
>”Do shut the door. If you have time, I’d like to talk about a little bit more than just your schedule.”
>Your heart flutters in your chest as he glances behind himself at you.

>Those blue eyes are sharp and very focused. Those of a stallion who knows exactly what he wants and how to get it.
>Was this proper?
>Should a mare of your stature really be taking this chance?
>It’s not like anything would happen. Sassy Saddles was just outside, not to mention the customers.
>You feel your face flush.
>Rarity seems to notice your discomfort.
>”Oh, dear me. I just realized what that sounded like. Do forgive me, darling, I’m not implying anything improper. I simply wanted you to try on a suit I’d made.”
>He holds up an incomplete outfit from the table. It was clearly influenced by you, with lavender touches overlaid on different shades of gray.
>”As an artist I pride myself on being able to take inspiration from everything I encounter, and the ponies I meet are not excluded. It isn’t done, as you can see, but I can at least see how it fits you. I didn’t get all your measurements yesterday, but I think I was close.”
>You’re honestly incredibly flattered.
“Oh my… well I did just come by to drop off my schedule. I’ve included my contact information if you wish to reach me. Including my… address.” You finish lamely.
>You feel like you just asked him out. You wanted to, Celestia as your witness, but he was so refined. And a Unicorn, to boot.
>Canterlot didn’t really look kindly on mixing races. It wasn’t a law, but it was just… frowned upon.
>You hold out your hastily written schedule, cringing at the poor writing, but Rarity deftly plucks it from your hoof with his magic and smiles.
>”Oh thank you so very much! I’ll be contacting you soon once I’ve had a moment to see when would be the best time. We simply must maximize the number of shoppers and their possible attitudes when they come in. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh, yes. Definitely! Anytime ponies come in to a concert, they’re expecting a certain type of music. If we were to play the wrong type of music for the wrong audience, it wouldn’t go over well.”
>”Precisely. Now, if you have the time to spare, would you care to let me fit this for you?”
>Rarity holds up the suit for you, looking at you expectantly.
“I can… probably spare the time, yes.”
>You secretly hoped he’d use his hooves instead of his magic, though the likelihood of that was slim.
>”Just step up on here, if you could.” Rarity motions to a small raised portion of the floor.
>You easily step up on it and try to look casual, waiting for him to work.
>Unfortunately, your extra attention on how you were standing probably made you look too stiff.
>You actively attempt to relax, but all that manages is that you now feel like you’re being too casual.
>Rarity doesn’t say anything, but just holds up a measuring tape to you, checking your withers, shoulders, and then moving down to your croup, haunch, and dock.
>He’s professional the entire time, not making it awkward by saying anything, just measuring, measuring, measuring.
>You get a whiff of his cologne as he bustles about you, and you let out a small sigh.
>Rarity’s eyes flick up to your face, and you hold your breath, trying to pretend you hadn’t made any noises.
>You mentally berate yourself. Why did you do that? Sure he smells good, and he’s handsome as all get-out, but come on. He’s a unicorn, you’re an earth pony. He’s a successful business stallion, you’re just the cellist for a small orchestra.
>Soon enough, Rarity has compared the measurements to the suit, made a couple of adjustments, then turns back to you.

>”I just realized, I didn’t get your name. I noticed it written on your schedule, but it’s far more polite to personally be introduced. My name is Rarity, and what shall I call you, miss…?”
“Oh, it’s Octavia Melody. Octavia, if you please.”
>”I certainly do. It’s wonderful to get to know you better. Now, if I may, are you ready to try on the suit?”
“Yes, of course.”
>Without any further fuss, Rarity swiftly uses his magic to slip the suit onto you. You lift your hooves one at a time to try to help, and he carefully, but firmly, fastens everything up.
>The entire ensemble complements your coat, mane, and the bow-tie he made you yesterday perfectly.
>”Wonderful! I must say, you look simply smashing!”
>He twists his head, mane bouncing as he looks for a mirror and pulls it over to you, letting you have a look at yourself.
>You smile as you turn around in front of the mirror, looking over yourself in the fancy suit.
>You had worn suits before, and dresses, and all sorts of different outfits depending on the performance and the expectation of the orchestra, so you’d seen yourself in them many a time, but this was the first time a suit was made to specifically compliment YOU.
“It’s lovely, Rarity. But I think I may be a little bit biased.”
>”Aren’t we all, my dear? But thank you for letting me see it on you. I truly appreciate the help. Let me just get that off you, and we can have you right on your way home.”
>it’s a lot easier pulling the suit off you than putting it on, and you’re free of everything except your tie in a moment.
>Rarity places the items gently on the table and turns back to you.
>”Well, my dear, I do hope this hasn’t been too much of an imposition, but I thank you for your time. I will be contacting you soon.”
“Not a problem, Rarity. Thank you for your generosity, once again.”
>He walks you to the door, and sees you out. As it shuts behind you, you trot merrily out of the boutique, waving to Sassy Saddles as you go.