Starman (a.k.a. Prince Gavyn of Throneworld) has two of the most classically handsome superhero costumes I've ever seen. One is red and yellow; the other is blue and yellow. The symbol on his chest is a simple five-pointed star. There's no unnecessary embelishment. I would never design something that simple myself, but only because Starman has worn that sort of costume already. And he's done it so well, it cannot be improved upon. When I see Starman's costume, I think, "That is the mark of a great hero."
When Starman decides to accessorize, however, it's with such flamboyance that I start to wonder if he's working a second job.
That job would involve him strutting down conveyer-belt sidewalks in the skeevier parts of the galaxy, sweet-talkin' the alien ladies into joining his stable of astro-hos, and screaming at hapless star-johns through the windows of their primer-gray space shuttles. For one thing, there's the staff. Not just a fancy walking stick, like a regular pimp might have. No, it's a huge crooked shepherd's staff which he carries with him everywhere he goes. (Compensating for somethin', Prince?) And then there's the fur cape. Or maybe it's "capes," plural, since as a show of just how fantastically dope and fly and crunk and what-not he is, he'll throw a cape away while he's flying off.
Some pimps like to wear expensive chapeaus. Some of these same pimps like to brandish gem-encrusted chalices. Only Starman is cool enough to display that much bling... on his head.
Of course, the sheer crushing weight of the thing gives him a tension headache to beat the band, but Starman would never let you know it.
He's crunk like that.