Dearest Twilight, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy and Spike,

The age of Rarity is here, girls!

Terribly sorry to have not begun this letter with a proper greeting or what not, but I’m afraid I’m just too excited! I just want you all to know, forget whatever it is you might have heard or remotely knew about fashion or even yours truly. Whatever you’ve worn in the past will be tossed away in disgust by the time my work is done! There’s a monster inside in me. It’s alive and it’s telling me to create!

Oh dear, it would seem I’m getting flustered just writing this, but that’s just what inspiration does to you.

I’ve come to Canterlot on a mission. This city is infested with facade. For too long, I immersed myself into it. No more, I say!

You see these designing mares and stuffy stallions who gaggle on with their delicious chocolate-furred mistresses and gleaming pool-colts about debauched, innocuous trite. That’s not where I want to be. Their life and existences are but mere facades. I will show these ponies the truth. I will show them what’s real.

That was my problem, girls. I cared far too much about what these aristocrats wanted: gaudy diamonds upon gaudy diamonds!

I look at my designs from just a few years ago and think ‘Kill yourself. Kill yourself.’

What? Too extreme? You clearly don’t know how artistry works, then.

None of it was authentic. It was all the desire of some high society client for another fastidious garden party or what not. I didn’t care about my craft, only about their approval.

The new me has rectified that. I’m giving this world what it needs, not what it wants.

Ponies everywhere will squirm, bow and plead for my revolution. Mares will be giving it up in waves for any stallion clothed in the stylings of Rarity!

Oh dear, was that too crass? Oh, it matters not! Not when you’re inspired!

This isn’t just about sticking it to convention, mind you. This is about freedom! No more girdles, no more hairbands, no more monogamy!

Everypony wants to live at the top of the mountain. Let me tell you, I will be the one who sits atop that mountain. Like I said before, this is revolution. This is me. I am revolution.

Oh, yes, they’ll certainly try to stop me, but what of it? I’m not leaving without a fight. When they kick me out of the clubs, I’ll return with an army (well... metaphorically, I mean. I’m certainly not planning a coup d'état for a nightclub anytime soon).

It’s liberation, girls. I’ve discarded away everything I once was in Ponyville. Destiny is in my sights. It’s gleaming. It’s glorious.

All I was meant to do, and all that I was meant to be. It’s on sight.

Sincerely yours,

Rarity.

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