The Country Louse And The City Louse

"Ghost Riders Crossroads" #1 (of one, thank God -- November, 1995) pits the wheelie-poppin' duo against a pair of lame 90's style bad guys. Here's the first one:



Who knew the inner monologue of a serial killer with a potato sack on his head could be so boring? Not to mention, cloyingly cute? And precisely how "moist" can wet metal be, anyway? And which credited writer can I track down and punch in the nads over this? Howard Mackie for "story" or Ivan Velez, Jr. for "script"?

Ah, but I'm supposed to be talking about fashion! The Scarecrow's costume has one "hook" for me, and that's the jack o'lantern mouth on the cowl. It's fairly unique and I'd even go so far as to say it's the one iconic thing about him. The rope around the neck? Boring and impractical. Why walk around wearing something that could be used to instantly kill you? He might as well wear a huge guillotine that he has to drag around everywhere. Or a poncho made of a drift net entangled with jellyfish and medical waste. Hey, Scarecrow, I've designed some shoes where your toes fit between sharp spikes that have been coated with cobra venom; maybe you'd like to wear those.

The rest of his outfit? Instantly forgettable. The color scheme is ugly and bland. It could have been perked up by some patches in a brighter color or a more interesting pattern, but nope. Failing that, the costume could have been saved by making the overall silhouette more eye-catching. Again, no. Hell, at least Jonathan Crane had the good sense to wear a hat.

Here's some dialog from the next page: "His voice... like ground glass against tender skin... making me afraid. No. That's not right. He should be the frightened one. I'm the Scarecrow. I eat fear."

No, you suck balls.

The other villain in "Ghost Riders Crossroads" is Mephisto's son, Blackheart. (And boy, does he ever get some ripe Kelsey Grammaresque dialog! It's like the baby from "Family Guy" minus the intentional stabs at humor.)



Lookin' good, Blackheart! Been workin' out? It suits you! It helps to make up for the fact that you barely have a face to speak of, are completely lacking genitalia, and have a long, prehensile tail. (Like a lot of the guys I meet at the gym!) Still, I wonder what you'd look like with a makeover. Trim up the spines a little bit, get you in a tailored suit with some nice Italian shoes...



Oh, for--! That's a twelve hundred dollar Baroni Uomo suit and you just put your quills right through it! Didn't we talk about getting those things waxed? And where is the tie I bought you? And your hair--! That is not the length I requested. What do you mean, "second thoughts?" You know what? Forget you. I don't need this. You don't want to take my advice? Fine. You look like a licorice Johnny Depp. Congratulations.



Um. Heh. Kidding! You know me and my wacky sense of humor! You look great, honest!

Please, don't kill me.

My Most Daring Fashion Intervention Yet

"New barber?" "Short?" Who on God's green earth could that sniper be referring to?

This is from "Wolverine and the Punisher" #2 (November 1993). Way-out artistic interpretation of Wolverine by Gary Erskine.

So the mutant healing factor provides no defense against bad hair days, huh? If Wolverine was a real person -- and haven't we all masturbated about that? -- I suppose this is how his hair would be. Greasy, tangled, and reeking of cigar smoke. None of those achingly dated "animal ear" points. (Wolverine won a Timberwolf Scholarship to the Cain And Abel School of Cosmetology!)

But seriously... Wolvie! Er, may I call you Wolvie? No? Fine. And please move your claws away from my jugular vein. Many thanks. Seriously, Mister Wolverine, you're a mess. Run a brush through that rat's nest and apply some product. Or at least tie it back in a ponytail -- I'm pretty sure I've seen you do that before. And stop slouching! It looks like you have a hump. And about your clothes -- when you're short and stocky, loose-fitting clothes are a huge no-no. They make you look a good fifty pounds heavier. Look at yourself here. You look fat! You're not fat. You've got washboard abs, for Pete's sake! Not that you can tell in this little ensemble. And the whole "civilian clothes over superhero costume" thing just ain't workin'. Not when you can see the costume poking out. You don't see painters wearing tanktops over their coveralls, do ya? Or Marines wearing cut-off jeans over their crisply pressed dress trousers. I know you know this. It's like you're just stumbling around in a daze here. SNAP OUT OF IT!

Yeah, that and the hair.

Haunted Hos!

"The Warlord" # 45 (May, 1981) is all about scantily-clad women being grabbed by scary monsters, but I'm the one who had to deal with the horror of their outfits. In the main story, elaborately VanDyked "man of action" Travis Morgan must stop a trio of giant cyclopes from abducting the womenfolk of a race of tree-dwelling dwarves. I've only glimpsed the tree-dwelling dwarf society and I've never visited them, so I guess I'm pulling a "Lars Van Trier" when I say that they're undoubtedly the worst people ever to have existed on or under the planet.



All the dwarf women we see in this issue -- and it's a lot! -- are busty skanks clad only in skimpy rags, while the only two dwarf men we see are dumpy, pot-bellied, and covered in layer upon layer of garish Elizabethan/Victorian clothing. Apparently tree-dweeling dwarf society is divided into two unequal strata: the pimps and the hos. Look at that diminutive, big-headed tramp, desperately angling for the attention of beefy hunk. (And succeeding, I guess! Ew.) It's like the Skartaris version of "American Idol." Any moment now she's going to slowly clap her hands with her fingers splayed apart and tell the hunky guy he has "a beautiful spirit." And then she'll invite him back to her dressing-tree and deny the whole thing later.

Later, the Warlord -- who is all about delegation -- arranges for the captive tree-dwelling prostitutes to be rescued by a woman who could really use a Brazilian wax.



Yeah, yeah, it's a furry bikini. Still, when the fur is an exact match for your own hair, is it really a good idea to wear something like that? And again, look at the tree-dwelling dwarf women and their ripped clothing. The cyclopes didn't do that to them when they kidnapped them -- that's just how the dwarf ladies happened to be dressed at the time. Creepy!



Aaaannnd creepier.

In the "Omac" backup story, penciller Greg LaRoque hopes nobody who sees this has ever read an X-Men comic and will therefore think that the carnival barker's hairdo is kooky and original! Ah, youth! But the lady in the lime green is the scariest part of the story. Radioactive earrings, boots that are literally painted on and puffy-yet-ventilated sleeves. And the hair! All that hair, and the monster, sight unseen, somehow manages to bypass it and grab her by her waist. Well, it was probably all sticky with Alberto VO5, anyway.

Hey, want to see something really scary?



Cool your jets, Poindexter. I hate to be the one to break this to you, but you're a hyena-faced spaz and nobody likes you. (There, better.) Also, I'm going to have to revoke your muttonchops. You're just not cool enough to carry them off. *RRRRIIIP!!* Yes, I know it stings. Stop crying and take it like a man. What am I going to do with them? Not that it matters to you, but I'm going to preserve them in brine and keep them on a shelf. Next to Cliff Carmichael's.

(I can't 100% guarantee a post tomorrow -- 95% but not 100%. I'm helping someone install laminate flooring in their house and computer access is an unknown quantity. Everything will be back to normal for Monday, though.)

One Size Fits Small

Ah, the X-Men school uniform: the Yugo of superhero costumes! Plain, ill-fitting, and offered with your choice of alarmingly pointy mask or skull-pinching cowl, the standard X-Men uniform can instantly frumpify any hero! Even fruit-striped babe Marionette, noseless faux-Klingon Acroyear, pistachio-skinned Tourette's sufferer Bug, fairyland hottie Fireflyte, ass-kicking lump o' carrotcake dough Huntarr, and... well, Commander Rann was kind of a pill to start with, so he doesn't really count.

The above panel can be found in "The X-Men And The Micronauts" #2 (February, 1984), written by Chris Claremont and Bill Mantlo with pencils by Butch Guice and inks by Bob Wiacek and Kelley Jones. Remember when Guice used to draw like that? Kinda chunkier, with a lot more bounce and verve, and not so stiffly realistic and dependant on photo reference? *sigh* I miss Chunk-style Guice. I mean, I can understand if he doesn't want to draw like that anymore, but I don't find his current style to be an improvement. The characters look rigid and awkward and a bit splintery, like they're constructed out of something that at any second could snap apart and embed itself in my eye. And the faces are usually dour and glum and lifeless, like the people are all posing for a passport photo that never gets taken. Bleh. Come back to us, Chunk-style!

Anyway, this comic has a crazy amount of mental/spiritual possession going on -- even for a Claremont book! The Micronauts are mentally enslaved by that Entity guy, and the Entity guy has taken over Professor X, plus the issue starts with one of Claremont's patented nightmare sequences, in which Bug gets transformed against his will into an actual bug and Marionette is made to dance around like an actual marionette. It's so obvious; why didn't anybody think of that before? Oh yeah. Because it's obvious. Effing Claremont. (Get well soon! My thoughts and prayers go out to you! Just don't ever write any more comics, ever, ever again, okay? Thanks.) But here's the cherry on Claremont's Infinitely Rehashed Plot Sundae:



Baron Karza in Kitty Pryde's body. I know what you're thinkin'. And it means you're going straight to Hell. See you there!

This is from Kitty's "Ariel" phase, between her "Sprite" and "Shadowcat" identities. I remembered it as being somewhat unattractive. Imagine my astonishment to reread this comic after twenty-odd years and to discover that it is, in fact, a complete eyesore. The fit: baggy. The color scheme: lime and cantaloupe. And the facepaint! Ye gods! Thank God Kitty was on a team that went out on missions instead of doing on-the-spot emergency work like Spider-Man. ("Somebody help! The 1st National Bank is being robbed!" "This sounds like a job for... Ariel! In about half an hour, which should allow me to find a women's bathroom that doesn't have a huge line in front of the door and to get my face made up just exactly right... y'know what, better make that forty-five minutes... everybody just stay where they are, alrighty? I'll see you again in about forty-five minutes... or maybe an hour. Just to be safe.")

And now, a Valentine's Day message from Hannibal Lecter.

I Wear Green And Purple And A Punctuation Mark. Who Am I?

Guess who that guy is. Yup! It's the Riddler! Believe it or not. This image is from "Detective Comics Annual" #8 (1995) by Chuck Dixon and Kieron Dwyer. It's the story that made me love the Riddler. Which was a feat tantamount to sending a manned spacecraft to Pluto, since before I'd always hated the guy. Dixon and Dwyer managed to make the querying l'il irritant sympathetic with this origin story, which chronicles the Riddler's arduous journey from the small time to the big leagues. And it's reflected perfectly in his costumes.

That was his first attempt at a costume, up there. I love the stocking cap. So low-rent, it's kinda charming. And the question mark was painted on. Beautiful. It puts me in mind of the DIY badguys in Bob Burden's comics. It looks like any second now, Bondo-Man or Jumpin' Jehosaphat is going to plow into him and beat him senseless.

The Riddler tried a little harder for his next job.



Here we have the introduction of purple into the Riddler's costume. And how 'bout those accessories? He's bolstered his confidence with not one, but two phallic symbols! (And he then touches the tips of them together. I don't think Freud had a chapter on that one.) But white for the question mark? Oh, honey, no.

And now a little sumpin' for the breeders!



The Riddler's costume here -- *ahem!* Eyes to the center of the panel, buster! I'll get to the Skanks of Prey in just a sec. Anyhow, this is the first version of the costume that most folks associate with the Riddler. Thanks to the old TV show, natch. Although I'm pretty sure that one didn't have a big leather belt holding up the tights. Not seen in this panel: black boots with really thick soles. And you just know those gloves are Playtex. Like I said, first attempt. But the crudity of it all is almost sweet. If you're wondering about why the Riddler's nose looks so odd in this panel, it's because it's bandaged. Because it keeps getting broken, because the Riddler keeps mouthing off to brawny thugs and they keep punching him in the face. Example dialog from the previous page:

Denglar (brawny thug): The police will be on to us like stink on fish.
Riddler: Well, Denglar, I've got a riddle for you. How do you keep an idiot waiting?
Denglar: I dunno.
Riddler: I'll tell you later.

And then Denglar punches the Riddler in the face.

Still, I never cared much for this outfit, especially in its refined, unitard version. Maybe because it was almost too theatrical -- and I know it appeared in comics first, but it really seems to me like the product of somebody who never read comics, and it was their idea of a SUPER! (in a Big Gay Al voice) costume.

Oooohhhkay. How 'bout those floozies, fellas? The one on the left needs to unbuckle a couple of things, because they're cutting off the blood supply to her head. Nice heart-shaped earrings, by the way. This is what the Care Bears cartoon would have been like, if it had been produced by Vince McMahon. Also, check out the spiked thigh-band or whatever that thing's supposed to be. She'll puncture a vital artery if she puts her thighs too close together -- like that's ever going to happen! Nice Devo sunglasses on the other gal. Either that, or somebody pulled an "X-23" with Cyclops' DNA.

I tried to picture what these ladies would look like if they'd been drawn by Dick Sprang. It gave me a tummy ache.



YEAH, BOY! There's the Riddler I love! Finally, a dapper, dandyish look to go with the cocky attitude! And so generous! When he was at the haberdashers and they gave him his bowler hat, he said, "Y'know what? I'd like to buy a round of bowler hats for the house! Bowler hats for everybody!" And then the place went apeshit.

It's a great look for the guy. Very crisp, very polished, and it's all about creating an impression -- right down to the painstakingly pomaded hair with a single loose forelock for a bit of boyish charm. (It worked for Superman and it works for the Riddler.)

His hench-gals still look like whores, but hey, whatever works for them.

Moral Realignment Challenge: The Elongated Man And Doctor Light

The above image and the following "next issue" blurb can be found on the letters page of "Doctor Light" #128 (April, 1981) which was published on Earth 3.1:

NEXT MONTH: Why is DOCTOR LIGHT'S glamorous girlfriend, SUE DEARBON: GIRL P.I. being shadowed by that gruesome sideshow performer-turned-criminal, the eerie ELONGATED MAN? The Knight of Light and the Socialite Sleuth have only 24 hours to find the answer, and their only clue is... a horoscope? Don't miss "Identity: Pisces" by Paul Kupperberg, Jose Delbo, and Frank Chiaramonte!

If you're wondering just what the hell is going on, this is the first of my "moral realignment" costume design challenges, in which I reinterpret a comic book hero's costume for a villainous role, and vice-versa. Initially I was going to do just one costume at a time, but I decided it would be more fun to do them in opposing pairs. Let's look at the originals:



For the heroic version of Doctor Light, I ditched the fin on his head and recut the cowl so it could expose a youthful head of hair. And though it pained me, I shaved off his dapper goatee. I mean, I'm partial to facial hair but I know that for a classically styled superhero, it's almost never done. The classic comic book cliche is that beard=evil. So it had to go. I redesigned his costume to show more white and I replaced the black with a friendly Supermannish sky blue. I simplified the starburst logo, which incidentally made it look like the Marvel "Captain Marvel" logo -- not on purpose but I thought it was a cool tie-in so I kept it. And I got rid of the cape in favor of those shoulder patches I like so much.

For the villainous version of the Elongated Man, I almost gave him Doctor Light's old fin, but it made him look too much like one of those lame Golden Age Marvel heroes. They were always fighting crime with their faces completely exposed and a big dorky fin on their heads. So I went the Lex Luthor route and made him bald. And I gave him a goatee! Because facial hair is comic book shorthand for menace. (Pfft. Whatever.) Leaving the head bare, I was inspired to go with the 70's variation on his costume, which had a bare chest. For the rest of the costume, I reversed the red and black, made the yellow trim zig-zag (kinda like Silver Age Marvel, I have to admit) and raised the border on the plunging neckline into a jagged, flared collar. Very 70's Dave Cockrum, very Nightcrawleresque. Finally, I replaced the blank oval on his belt with the Mask of Tragedy to reflect my vision of him as a shape-changing former sideshow act.

And true to comic book form, the good Doctor Light is handsome and the bad Elongated Man is... not.

I'll have another one of these in a week or so: the Flash and Murmur (of all people! But I think I found an interesting take on him).

What reversed hero/villain pairs would you like to see?

I Always Suspected As Much

Two of my greatest suspicions have been confirmed.
1. I couldn't possibly be the only person who wears undergarments with his own face on them.
2. Wolverine is smoother than a Ken doll!

Jeebus, dude, who talked you into getting your chest waxed? Because that person was not your friend.

Anyway, the weird shapelessness of Wolverine's crotchal region inspired me to pen this one-act play:

Horny Ninja Alien Princesses 38

Cast:
Wolverine: Himself
Princess Nil'ja'dri'mor: Dame Judi Dench

Setting: the sumptuously appointed stateroom of Princess Nil'ja'dri'mor, aboard her living space-yacht, the Aetherrunner. The Princess and Wolverine enter, passionately kissing, and make their way towards her bed, slamming into walls and knocking things off tables as they go.

Princess: Tomorrow we fight what may well be our final battle against the Sl'wev'ghr in the heart of the B'mil'hov'nor Galaxy! But tonight... we love!

Wolverine: Daddy needs some candy, baby! Let's do this thang!

Princess (uses her fantastic alien strength to rip Wolverine's belt off, and then starts to pull down his tights): Let's get you out of these dumb ol' clothes! Tee hee!

Wolverine (pulls back): Whoa! Whoa! Er, doesn't it seem kind of bright in here? It's kinda ruining the mood.

Princess: Oh, you want the lights out?

Wolverine (grins devilishly): The Wolverine only comes out at night, baby! Grrrowff!

Princess: Anything for you, my regal warrior.

(She claps her hands twice and the lights go out. The pair are illuminated only by the faint glow of swiftly passing stars.)

Wolverine: Phew! (nervously fans self with his hands) Omigod that was so scary!

Princess: What?

Wolverine: Just talking to myself. Because I'm crazy! I slice men into ribbons with my sweet-ass claws 'cause I'm mean-mad with the bloodlust! I'M WOLVERINE, BABY!!! AAAARRROOOOOO!!!

Princess: Take me, you hairy alien lunatic! Take me now! The Princess commands you! (She pulls down his tights, and finds a pair of Hanes boxers underneath with Wolverine's image on them.) Okay. Weird. Well, off they go, too!

Wolverine (grabs her arms): Not so fast there, slick. That porthole over there... don't you have some draperies or something we can cover that up with? I really need for it to be totally dark in here. I can't explain why but it's just very important to me.

Princess: No, no draperies. Quit stalling! Your Princess wants some of that strange Earth lovin'!

Wolverine: Hey, look! There's an armoire right next to it! If we each took one side, we could move it in front of the porthole and voila! Problem solved! Or maybe we could use that extra sheet over there as a sort of impromptu window treatment... (he begins to flop-sweat)

Princess: Relax, lover! Nobody can see us here! (she yanks down the boxers) Now, I'm going to show you pleasure like you've -- huh. Ha! HAW HAW HAW! You have got to be freaking kidding me! It's like a little Vienna sausage! Oh, lordy! Wait'll I tell my handmaidens about-- (Wolverine disembowels her)

(curtain falls)

Look, Ma, No Mouth!

A few weeks ago, Heikki Myllari sent me a very nice e-mail posing a very interesting question: "Since her (underrated) series ended just last month, I was wondering what you thought about the old-new Batgirl, and her S&M themed costume with the stitched-shut mask?"

I sent Heikki a reply a while back, but I wanted to address Batgirl's costume in length on my blog. And I'd like to offer Heikki a hearty thank-you for sending me the above image. I had no idea the outfit was designed by Alex Maleev. I was shocked. You could've knocked me over with a feather, I tell ya! Maleev is an artist I like, except for his tendency (if I recall correctly) to use photocopied panels every now and then in talking scenes. Y'know, those bits in the comic where a person is standing there with the exact same position and expression in three or four panels straight, babbling some Claremont-speak or rambling away with some of that "Get to the freaking point or as God is my witness I'm going to stab your boring ass" Bendis-talk.

Heikki said that one retailer has remarked that his customers found Batgirl's costume offputting. It is awfully solemn and mannish. I wonder... if the comic had starred "Alessandro Cain" instead of Cassandra Cain, would the average male customer have liked the costume more? I have no problem with superheroine costumes looking intimidating, but I do think there is a disconnect between the costume and the "girl" part of her codename. I hear "Batgirl" and I'm expecting something that could be reasonably worn by Betty Cooper or Hilary Duff. So in that light, the costume is unnecessarily serious. Not to mention boring. I think restricting the yellow to that ridiculously chunky belt and a mere outline around the bat-symbol was a big mistake.



The costume really falls apart with the cowl. I have no problem with cowls that cover the entire face -- the Black Panther, the White Tiger, the Atom -- those are great. Batgirl's cowl, however, has some very conspicuous stitching around the mouth. Which is stupid. Because this stitching is nowhere in evidence on the rest of her costume. Most superhero costumes are drawn like they're painted onto the body. Even if they're drawn with wrinkles and folds and such, stitching is almost never indicated. In Batgirl's case, the stitching implied that the section of fabric covering the mouth was going to be dramatically ripped away at some point. Now, I didn't follow the "No Man's Land" books so I have no idea if that actually happened when the Huntress was wearing that costume or not. But my point is, it looks like it was meant to be impermanent, and yet it never went away. Some artists would even exaggerate the stitching's theatricality by making it huge, like Batgirl had sewn her costume using very fine thread for most of it and then switched to half-inch nylon rope for the cowl.

My big question is, why did Cassandra feel she had to hide her mouth behind that thing? What was she concealing? My guesses?

1. Seriously chapped lips
2. Subcutaneous acne
3. Receding gums
4. Light, downy mustache
5. Snaggletoof
6. Harelip
7. Stank breath, y'all
8. Her tongue piercing (trust me, Batman is a hard-core douche when it comes to that kind of thing)
9. Big snapping mandibles because OH MY GOD she has the head of a giant ant!
10. Love-bite from Jason Todd

Or, y'know, somethin' like that.

Secret Society Of Snappy Separates

You'd think after "Twilight" that I wouldn't want to read another Howard Chaykin miniseries. And yet, "JLA: The Secret Society Of Super-Heroes" sucked me in on the strength of its artwork and some interesting takes on some very old costumes.



I presume these "Elseworlds" versions of the Justice Leaguers were all designed by the artist, Mike McKone. He's one of my favorites. But remember when he sucked? Way back in the late 1980's, when Giffin and DeMatteis were still on "Justice League"? McKone had just started out and had no business getting hired by one of the big publishers. His faces, always a bit on the horsey side, covered most of his characters' heads, which were about three-and-a-half times taller than they were wide. And he mainly drew people looking straight ahead or in profile. (Because three-quarter views are scary!) He sure as hell improved, though, huh? He's one of the best in the biz now!

Going left to right...
Metamorpho: is putty gray all over, which I much prefer to his "Ultra the Multi-Alien" crazy quilt look. His costume is mainly purple, which of course is the color of his chest in his standard design. And it's sleeveless, which works for his baldheaded, "tough guy" vibe.
Hawkgirl: a real mess. I'll get to her in detail in a minute.
Wonder Woman: Putting Wonder Woman in pants is always a dicey proposition. If you match the color of her classic "satin tights" they end up looking like jeans. If you put the stars on them, they end up looking like really tacky jeans. I think this costume avoids those pitfalls because not only are there no stars, but there are no boots. I'm not thrilled with the "Xena: Warrior Princess" bangs on her hairdo but other than that I think it's great.
Superman: excellent. This is one of my all-time favorite Superman costumes. The nice thing is, even though there's no cape and no yellow and nothing even approaching the well-known Superman logo, it's still obviously Superman to me. And the design of the huge "S" along with the muted color scheme, makes it look very Golden Age as well as modern.
Impulse: I'll show you his costume from the front in just a sec. Anyway, it's the same as the Flash's, only in gold.
Plastic Man: not bad, but boring. Which is why I'm not going to bother showing it to you.
Green Lantern: pretty good! Sleek and not too busy. And this was back during Kyle's "crabclaw mask" period, so I have to hand it to McKone for ditching it in favor of something attractive. My only beef is with the flared-out kneepads or whatever the heck those things are supposed to be. It looks like his knees are wearing bishops' miters. I wonder if they got to elect the Pope.
The Atom: nice. I'll show him close-up in a bit. One thing you can't see in this or the other panel: there's an antenna on his cowl. Which I think looks kinda cool.

I'm ready for my close-ups!



Geoff "I Need A Hug" Johns is probably kicking himself right now that he didn't think of this first. But he got to make up for it by having Deathstroke shatter Impulse's kneecaps. In a scene that was also drawn by Mike McKone. Weird.

The common denominator in these costumes is that they are all two-piece instead of onesies. It's more practical and flattering -- for an example, compare the two-piece uniforms on the later seasons of Star Trek: The Next Generation to the uncomfortable-looking zip-up bodysuits in the first seasons. Sure, Captain Picard had to yank down his shirt every time he got up from a chair, but at least there weren't all those weird wrinkles and folds. (Not in his uniform, anyway.)

My problem with the Flash and Impulse costumes here is that they could really have used something to break up all the monotony. Red and yellow (or "gold") are such bright colors that in big quantities they become overwhelming. And with no boots or gloves or anything, Wally and Bart look like they're wearing footy pajamas.

Let's see what the Atom and Hawkgirl are up to!



Oh, did I come at a bad time?

The Atom's costume is nice. Generic, but nice. Just like his "classic" costume, which is one I've never been all that enthused about. But Hawkgirl--! There have been scads of awful Hawkgirl costumes but I think this is one of the worst. The dominant color scheme: white and brown. Thrilling. And if you take away the helmet and the wings, what have you got? A muscle shirt over a loincloth over chainmail bicycle shorts. With pirate boots. The Atom getting squashed? Meh. It's Hawkgirl's costume that makes me sick to my stomach.

In Her Linen Skirt, Making Bad Guys Hurt

I'm already planning on picking up DC's "52" because I'm a sucker for this kind of thing. ("Civil War"? Civil WHATEVER, man!) And I'm especially surprised and delighted by this gorgeous cover. Check it out: Black Adam has a cape, now! (I didn't notice it until Devon Sanders pointed it out on his blog. That's me: Mister Observant.) Anyway, good for him! I've thought Black Adam needed a cape ever since he threw off the influence of that weasely little Theo Adam and revealed his true personality to be somewhere between Magneto and Thor. It makes him look more heroic and kingly, and it's a much-needed visual symbol of his status change. And bonus! It looks like he has a girlfriend! And not just any girlfriend, mind you. Her name is Isis.

I was hoping it would be the Isis from the 1970's live-action kids' show but that's doubtful. Another company owns the rights to the character, but I've noticed its website doesn't list print rights. So it could happen! Maybe. In a parallel universe or something. And Lord knows I've seen my share of those.

Let's take a look at the 70's Isis, shall we?



Here she is, reeling from the attack of a guy who has "the mutant power to change best friends into hated enemies" and, apparently, the added ability of spraying hot, delicious queso dip from his eyeballs. As you can see, she has a great outfit, and I tip my cap to the TV costume designer who came up with it. Let's see if her fashion sense carries over into her civilian identity.



Ah. Evidently not. Also, Wonder Woman called; she wants her schtick back. Also, I didn't know she was secretly Bailey Quarters from "WKRP In Cincinnati." Also, it's the Jennifer Walters line of frumpy pantsuits! Oh, I could go on like this all day! *sighs wistfully* But what really sets Isis apart from someone like Wonder Woman is that she's a magic user and she gets things done through rhyming couplets. Like, constantly.



Okay, somebody explain to me how she was able to recite her little poem before being mowed down by gunfire. I guess the second panel shows that the criminals were just really poor shots. Lucky for Isis. If you're wondering what those things are on the villains' heads? Don't ask. Aw, alright already. I'll spill it. They're "lead-lined brain covers" designed to shield their thoughts from the mutant guy. To someone like me, with my combination psychic shields/snack containers, they're wonderfully quaint. Although I think I could seriously rock that look. Y'know, if I wanted to. But I don't.

Isis' comic was cancelled with this issue. A little blurb in the letter column blames low sales. I think an Isis comic would stand a better chance today, especially if DC really went for the female market, because:
1. The character has mythological/fairy tale elements.
2. She doesn't dress like a cheap hooker, Supergirl.
3. She fights crime with poetry! How girly is that?

Well, it's not too girly, I've decided, because I wanna try it! Let's see if I can make things happen for myself with mystic-sounding couplets. I've been meaning to do a little grooming, so...

As farmers' scythes glide through their crops,
Trim my sweet-ass muttonchops!

Hmm. Nothin'. I'll try again.

Golden sunsets painting twilights,
Give my hair some bangin' highlights!

Nope. No dice. Obviously I suck at this.

Meet The Dorkersons

From the back of "Ghost Manor" #55, (Charlton, March 1981) comes this horribly printed ad for a "Warrior's Battlejacket." Look familiar? Note the pharaonic space helmet the boy is holding. And yet the phrase "Battlestar Galactica" appears nowhere in the advertisement. And believe it or not, this is far from the sleaziest ad in this comic. As you'll soon see.

Apparently the little girl is busy transcending this plane of existance and morphing into an energy being. She gets that from her mom's side of the family, I guess. When folks see the husband strolling arm-in-arm with his brightly glowing, near-featureless wife, the other fellas jab one another and say, "Man, how'd a loser like him score... um, whatever the hell that thing is?" And then the wife would overhear them and fold space into a tesaract in order to reach inside their skulls and reduce their brains to a frothy, mousse-like consistency. As for the husband? Well, the sex is mind-blowing. Instead of a bed, they do the nasty directly on one of those monolith thingies from "2001: A Space Odyssey." Unfortunately, the radiation level is so high that his junk has sprouted a tiny, scowling face and what appear to be several miniature narwhals' tusks.

According to the ad, "The Warrior's Battlejacket can be worn practically anywhere" (that you'd like a stranger to kick you in the groin). But what if you don't want the Warrior's Battlejacket? What if you'd rather have a girlfriend? How could the ads in "Ghost Manor" #55 help you with that endeavor?

Well, there's always mind control.



Or if that's not to your liking, maybe you'd like to try mind control.



Or even just good, simple, old-fashioned MIND CONTROL!



JESUS F**KING CHRIST! No wonder Charlton stopped publishing comics! All their customers were in prison! And I'm sure the prison psychiatrists wouldn't let them have any comics. Not Charlton comics, anyway. I'm guessing that towards the end, there, if you sent in a subscription form to Charlton Comics? It was automatically forwarded to the FBI. Nowadays there'd be laws requiring a Charlton reader to go door-to-door in their neighborhoods just to let everyone else know who was living amongst them.

And then they'd burn his house to the ground.

Superboy And The Amazing Thermonuclear Dream Coat

He's not dead. He's resting.

In "Superboy" #61 (April 1999) the troubled and occasionally tiresome teen bounces around Hypertime in a hi-tech/lo-fashion atomic-powered jacket. Superboy wears it with the collar up. Of course. Because he's kind of a twerp. I'm sure he'd roll up the sleeves, too, if they hadn't been reinforced with circuitry and isotopes and whatnot.

He runs into a bunch of other Superboys, some of whom are shown on the cover.



At center left, there's the Clark Kent Superboy, of course. He's the guy in the inoffensively boring -- ow! Quit pelting me with your HeroClix, fanboys! -- okay, make that "classic" costume. On the bottom is Superboy-as-Robin. And I think it's funny that the only costume elements I hate are the ones taken from the Kesel Superboy design. All those lame-ass straps, for instance. I do like this color scheme better than the one on the actual Robin costume. Huh. Between the Clark Kent and Robin Superboys is the DC One Million Superboy, all OMAC'd out. Now, I understand what Kirby was going for with that ridiculous hairdo but it still looks dumb. Doesn't look any better on Superboy, either. Nice shoulderpads, though. You know me; I loves me some good shoulderpads. (I bet his don't have any storage capacity for snacks, though. Me, ten points, Superboy, zero!) The blonde teen queen to the southeast of Superboy Proper is... wait for it!... Supergrrrl. Cue musical stinger, played on a trombone. Wah-wah-wah-WAAHHHH! Jesus. As if this book wasn't dated enough. One word of advice, "Supergrrrl": don't take hairstyling advice from Rachel Summers. I'm just sayin.' All armored up behind Clark Kent Superboy and the Kamandi-esque, Tarzan-ish Superboy is squire Superboy, also seen below next to Cowboy Superboy. Or "Supercowboy." Or whatever. I dunno.



Say...! Sir Kal is hot! Somebody needs to teach him the proper way to tie a tie, though. (Seriously, what the hell is up with that? Does he work at Chippendales?) Cowpoke Superboy is more nattily dressed than squire Superboy -- although he's pushing it a little with the fringed boots.

And lest we forget, there's the villainous Superboy! No, not the stammering whiner from "Infinite Crisis." The other one.



Oh, he's so terrifying, so unmistakably evil, I -- I -- heh... BWAH HAH HAH HAH!!! WOO! *wipes away tears* Oookay, "Black Zero." Here's the deal. The breastplate thing, based on Mike Mignola's designs for battlesuits from that old miniseries he did with John Byrne? That's terrific. Love it. Combining it with a black bodysuit? Classic. Looks great. The scribbly Byrne Doodles, meant to evoke Byrne's costume designs for Jor-El and his kin? Not good. They never were good. They're just another example of Byrne being lazy, like when he decided Wonder Woman's tights only needed two stars on 'em instead of dozens. Also? They kinda look like pubes. So thumbs down. The sunglasses? No. In fact, make that hell no. I know Superboy used to wear 'em a lot, but big effin' deal. They're a trendy, casual accessory and they take away from your aura of menace; they don't add to it. You don't see Darkseid strolling around in a Panama hat or Doctor Doom with one of those big rapper-style diamond necklaces that spells out his name. The only villain I can think of offhand who wears sunglasses as part of his regular costume is Doctor Octopus, and he's a fat guy with a bad haircut. If I looked like that I'd wear sunglasses, too, STORM BOY. And then there's the soul patch. Those things are always dicey. And to be frank, the rest of your look isn't hep enough to pull that thing off. Not with that Fantastic Sam's haircut, it ain't. Shave your head, ditch the sunglasses, and get back to me.



Well, that's a weird coincidence, Superboy. I was also going to suggest you "lose the jacket."

But not because it was explosive.

Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?

I actually published my "Southern Cross" post this morning, but since I'd composed it last night and because I know zilch about Blogger, it put yesterday's date on it. But that's okay, since it's technically still yesterday in Australia. That makes perfect sense, right? Huh? Oh, it doesn't?

Yeah, well... shut up.

As added proof that I post something new every weekday, I'm posting again! Whee! I just added a bunch of great new links to the sidebar. Check 'em out, if you haven't already. One of those links is for Project Rooftop, where everybody and his brother redesigns superhero costumes. I think they're great, and I'd also like to take this opportunity to remind you, once again, that I got there first. Not that I'm bitter or nothin'.

I'll leave you now with this old ink drawing Jeremy did of a shirtless vampire in a jester costume.



*crisply clicks heels together, then bows deeply* Adieu!

I Comb From A Land Down Under

Thank you, Anonymous Commenter, for tipping me off about my latest rival: Southern Cross. That'd be the guy with the 80's Metal hair flying behind Delta Burke. It just so happens Southern Cross is not only a superhero, but he's also a fashion designer. *waves arms furiously and stomps around* Man, everybody's tryin' to copy my deal! First Storm Boy and now this loser! Huh? What do you mean, "You're from the future so technically he was first?" Whose side are you on? What? No, the Wasp doesn't count, either. Phht. Whatever. I've time-travelled to the 1940's, y'know. That means I predated all of those guys.

So there.

Okay, now we've got that unpleasantness taken care of, let's dish!

Southern Cross -- real name: Bertram Davis, which automatically restricted his employment options to either "fashion design" or "tea room proprietor" -- first appeared in various Australian comics published by Cyclone back in the 80's. He's telekinetic and can fly super-fast. To quote the International Superheroes database, "He uses a power cane which amplifies his power; while he does not need it to employ his paranormal power, it boosts those abilities considerably." So, let's say we're tussling in a deserted warehouse and he's zooming around up near the rafters and I use one of my patented flying karate kicks to jump thirty feet straight up in the air (disclaimer: I can't actually do that) and I knock the cane from his hands. Suddenly he'd be restricted to flying about two feet off the ground at maybe five miles per hour. Bertie's outfit isn't bad, but it's terribly boring, and it's got those pointless armband thingies I hate. They don't add anything to the design; they're merely there. Anyway, the main point is that we've got white, bun-hugging spandex, sunglasses, a fluffy mane of hair and a big pimpin' cane. Therefore, Southern Cross = a crimefighting David Lee Roth.

Y'know, it's astounding what a good haircut and a dye job can do. Let's take another look at Southern Cross, this time drawn by one of my favorite artists, Jerry Ordway.



Why, Southern Cross, you're cute! Look at you! Sort of a late-model Jon Bon Jovi thing you've got going on there. Also, don't turn around but that one walrus is totally checking you out. Side note: I have no idea who the clown in the lifepreserver is back there or what it is he's so goddamned pleased about. Maybe it's because he knows he has a bigger stick than Southern Cross. Woo! Freudianism... that's an untapped well for comedy, huh?

Southern Cross belongs to a superteam called the Southern Squadron. My one question is, if Southern Cross is a fashion designer, why would he let his friends go out looking like this?



Yikes. Southern Cross' hair is in full Howard Stern mode here. It also reminds me of Valerie Bertinelli and Eddie Van Halen. I remember when that star couple married, and their hair became as one. It was beautiful. On a spiritual level, I mean. The anorexic Beast-wannabe -- or "wanna-Beast" for short -- is "Dingo," a Serbian werewolf. Wha-? But wolves aren't dingos... how can... feh! You lost me on that one, Southern Squadron. It's like having Ursa Major on your team and telling him, "You can turn into a brawny humanoid bear, right? So we've decided your codename will be Kangaroo." And he's wearing a unitard. Aha! No wonder he's so emaciated -- he's a ballerina! The guy in the boring Golden Age-style costume is named "Night Fighter" -- apparently he takes Ambien and then sleepwalks into biker bars and breaks pool cues over people's heads. And the woman with the stern black pantsuit and about twenty pounds of White Rain in her hair is "Lieutenant Smith." Really? So that's like a military regulation hairdo you got, honey? Do the men in your unit have to wear their hair like that as well? Or do they look more like Ted Danson circa "Cheers?" (I like how she's archly pointing at the reader, like "You! You drew me like this! And there shall come a reckoning!") Later, the hairstyles got even more egregious. For nearly all of them!



Finally, a sentiment I can get behind! Wow. I want to confiscate their styling mousse, tout de suite. And what happened to Dingo's face? Suddenly he's a Lhasa Apso! But at least he got some highlights. That plain dark brown was doing nothing for him. Lieutenant Smith is sporting a mullet, as designed by Jack Kirby. It's the mullet the Queen of the Norns or the Lighting Lady would have had! If they'd lived in Alabama! As for Southern Cross, it looks like he could serve drinks from atop his hairdo, it's so smooth and flat. And do my eyes deceive me, or has he added a couple of Grampa Munsterish white streaks to that mess? *shudder* That leaves Night Fighter, hiding his hair from us like always. I wonder what it looks like under that cowl. For some reason I'm picturing an elaborate comb-over. No idea who the Darkhawk clone is, but a mask that covers your entire face is a great way of saying, "I don't even know these people." Can't say as I blame him.

The Notorious Ilda Robot

A biopic about 50's pin-up Bettie Page is about to be released nationwide (I predict it will rake in millions at the box office and win eight Academy awards! All for sound design, strangely enough! I am from the future! Heed my words!) and it got me to thinking about Ilda, the robot secretary of DC's detective-of-the-future, Star Hawkins. (Example panels from "Strange Adventures #125, February 1961, reprinted in the softcover book "Mysteries In Space: The Best Of DC Science Fiction Comics" published by Simon & Schuster in 1980.) Ilda, though a wonderful secretary, isn't exactly easy on the eyes. Clearly inspired by the children in "The Family Circus," Ilda's distinguishing feature is a football-shaped head with a prominent widow's peak and no nose. And her fussy, eye-searing mini-dress puts me in mind of barber poles, sailors, and hookers. Not necessarily in that order, and sometimes in upsetting combinations.

(Side note: WHAT IS THE DEAL with that lady in the foreground? She's got one of those hats with the attached scarf so it can be tied around her neck, and yet she's still trying to clamp it down on her head. My diagnosis: OCD. She probably also used Krazy Glue and a nail gun to permanently adhere it to her skull. Check out the squat, orange Neptunian tourist taking a picture of her as part of his misleading anti-Earth propaganda campaign. My alternate theory? She's one hell of a magician, and in a surreal bit of prestidigitation she's going to smoothly press the hat all the way down to her neck, causing her head to disappear. Let's see you explain that away, Penn and Teller!)

Alrighty, I can sense you're growing restless. "Why the hell would that goof-ass robot remind you of Bettie Page?" you might ask me. And I would reply, "Enough swearing! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Maybe I'd slap you, lightly, on the cheek. Once. Just once. And then I'd say, "It's because of 'Twilight,' a three-issue DC miniseries from 1991, written by Howard Chaykin and drawn by Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez."

"Twilight" was a "mature readers" take on the DC sci-fi heroes of the 50's and 60's. To quote the back cover blurb of issue #3, "Immortality made Theater of History -- or was it History of Theater? After hundreds of years of the Forever Plague, Mankind lost most of its humanity. We replaced those innate sensibilities with rituals and role playing, emotional shadowboxing that deluded the Children of Twilight into thinking the Long Night would never come." Huh. Did the Pretentious Captials key on your typewriter get jammed, fella? Should I be listening to Tangerine Dream while I read this? Anyway, to bottom-line it, living forever turned people into assholes. The canyon-sized hole is this plot is that it's written by Howard Chaykin, so most of the characters were assholes to start out with.

There was one bright spot in this series for me, and that was the character designs -- or at least, some of them. I didn't need to see Tommy Tomorrow as a taller, skinnier, mustache-free Hitler, thank you very much, but I did applaud what they did with Ilda. Which was to make her look like a robot version of Bettie Page. Sadly, she's stuck in the middle of a Howard Chaykin comic, so this kind of crap happens to her.



And then she gets turned into a half-human, male-shaped hermaphrodite-thing with Moe Howard hair and really pretty eyes. Aw, well. You were cute while it lasted, Ilda.

Lo, There Shall Come... A SALESMAN!

Who's the freak with the two juicers strapped to his back? Or is that a bra? Why, it's "Captain O!" Can you guess what the "O" stands for? ...Aw, grow the hell up. No, it's presumably for "Olympic," as in "Olympic Sales Club." This door-to-door scheme hails from the back pages of "Wonder Woman" #9 (October, 1987). That was in the olden times when children could actually be induced to perform an activity other than text messaging or downloading ringtones. Check out the kid in the center. Seems Tina Yothers has been moonlighting!

Most dated sales prizes from this page? Well, there's the AM/FM cassette player, the "type-right typing tutor" which is a stand-alone keyboard and not a computer program, the VCR College Bowl game, and the "Variflex Breaker" skateboard, which looks to be the approximate size and proportions as a TV tray. But my favorite? Something resembling a fetal version of Paddington Bear and described as a "light-activated Chubbles." I once knew a guy who had light-activated chubbles. But his doctors called it "priapism."

If a youngster from that era chanced to call the Olympic Sales Club's 1-800 number, who would answer the phone?



Um, 'kay. The other "Captain O" operators are baffled as to why Ruth insists on coming to work in that outfit. I'm sure Ruth would tell them it's for her own defense. Dennis (that creep from Accounts Receivable) likes to hang around her desk, telling vaguely filthy jokes in that three-pack-a-day voice of his, and touching her way too much. Well, next time he tries to stroke her hair, he's gonna pull back a lacerated paw, thanks to her new razor-sharp tiara! Suck it, Dennis!

I think the more likely scenario here is that "Ruth" is, in fact, a burly, tattooed prison inmate nicknamed "Claw Hammer" who's going to steal your identity for a credit card scam. But maybe I just watch too much "60 Minutes."

Finally, I'd just like to say I adore how the copy reads like it was dictated by a dying soap opera character. "PLEASE... operators can take name and address only... CANNOT answer questions... YOU MUST NOT TELL Phillipe that I am his true mother... SWEAR IT TO ME... oh, dearest Carlo, I go now to a BETTER PLACE but know that I will always... *GASP* AAAARRRRGGHHHHHHH!!!" (thunk)

Meanwhile, in the actual comic, Wonder Woman uses the clumsiest pickup line I've ever heard. See if you can find it.



OH MY GOD, Wonder Woman, you can't just go around asking ladies to show you their girdles!

Not unless it's Mardi Gras.

The Mighty Fugly Thor

First of all, I'd like to second the "?!" the off-panel lady used in her word balloon, and I'd like to add, if I may, "??!!!?!???!!?!?!!" There, that should cover how I feel. Which is hurt. I feel like somebody took my eyes and gave them an Indian burn, a swirlie, and about twenty power sit-ups.

This is from "Avengers: The Crossing" #1 (September 1995). Those were dark days for superhero costumes, my friend. I really don't like Thor's original outfit (now there's somebody I could help, if he didn't kill me first) but this thing is a mess. Let's break it down:

1. The straps, MY GOD, the straps! What is their purpose? And why are there so many of them? He strapped his boots, for Pete's sake. Why, was there some danger of them falling off of his feet? Plus, he strapped his gloves! Also, there appears to be a fan belt on his thigh. Of special note is the Barney Rubble lace-up action between the spikes.

2. The spikes. And on his thighs, yet. Were there a lot of people attacking the sides of your thighs, Thor? Is that why you put the spikes there? On the shoulderpads I can kind of understand but even so, the spikes are so fat and far apart from one another (more obvious in other panels, I admit) that they lose all effectiveness. To illustrate that fact, I'd like to present a little one act play I've written, called "Triumph Of The Troll King!"

(Curtain rises on a bleak Asgardian plain. Standing amidst scores of dead, two final opponents face off. They are Geirrodur, King of the Trolls, and Thor the Thuder God. Geirrodur is heavily armored and weilds two axes. Thor holds his legendary hammer and is dressed in a ridiculously convoluted outfit.)

Thor (waves his hammer menacingly): Thou dost hesitate, Troll King! Know, then, that the Mighty Thor shall show thee mine godly mercy, provided thou dost drop thy weapon and surrender to Asgard!

Geirrodur: Naw, see, I was just looking at your armor and my first thought was "Oh shit, spikes" but then I got a better look at those puppies and I thought, "Well, hell, not only are they kinda chunky and non-threatening looking but really, I could probably fit my whole hand between 'em. Like this! (With alarming speed, Geirrodur's axes sever both Thor's arms at the shoulder.)

Thor: Not cool, dude.

(Curtain falls)

3. Belly shirt! Mind you, I did something similar with my Black Condor redesign, but with the preponderance of spikes, the exposed abdomen seems more like a gaping flaw in Thor's battle armor than a "design element." As a side note, I'd just like to point out that this was in 1985 when the whole idea of a belly shirt actually seemed fresh and fashionable. Which makes the current Supergirl's costume seem even more dated and whore-ish.

4. Introducing: chastity belts for men! How uncomfortable does that thing look, huh? And what happens if he has to pee? (Aw, who am I kidding? He's a god! He can hold it in. For eons.)

5. The hammer now has a big fat chain on it. Not for any practical purpose, but because it looks kewl. Not "cool," mind you. "Kewl." Which is considerably less cool than "cool."

6. Get a haircut, hippie! Yes, our Thor went out and got himself some hair extensions. The hair is even longer, fuller, more lustrous, and gravity-defying in other panels and on the wraparound cover of this comic, especially. While he's obviously spending a lot of time taking care of those extensions, they just seem like they'd get in the way during a fight. And imagine what he looks like when it gets wet. That's right. He looks like Janice from "The Muppet Show."

If I remember right, Thor had this look in about four issues of his own comic before it was finally cancelled. Turns out their target audience was only going to purchase books with ugly, strappy costumes and sketchy anatomy if they had a big "i" on the cover.