Lately, there's been a lot of talk about the most recent makeover of Ms. Diana Prince's working costume, from a jewelry-heavy, Vegas-ready tankini-corset getup to tight leggings, a tighter top and a sorta scruffy-lookin' jacket. (And yes, bling).
My reaction is "meh." I was never more than a lukewarm fan. Oh, it was kewl to have a super-duper superheroine who wasn't like Superman's annoying kid sister; but her boyfriend was dumber than a post and generally inept, despite every effort to build him up. She kept having to go bail him out, more Mom or babysitter. ...In hindsight, maybe she needed him around to avoid DADT problems. C'mon, Diana, it's 2010; you might have to get a different job but sneaking around is no way for a supposed role model to behave. Let poor old Steve date someone who won't use him to hide behind.
For that matter, the fellow who dreamed her up had some...different...notions about role-modeling. I'm no fan of Fred Wertham -- now there's a dirty, dirty mind! -- and it's important to point out that the evidence is Dr. Marsten and Co. successfully raised a large, happy family (who speak very highly of them) but in terms of comic books and related TV and films, I feel vindicated in having been far more a fan of Batgirl (and even Catwoman, who wasn't ever really majorly evil, y'know). Nearsighted and surrounded by adults entirely unconvinced of the merits of graphic novels, I soon migrated to thick books with a lot more text. Grown-ups were a lot less likely to take 'em away and Admiral Heinlein had tickets to the Moon!
CHICAGO RAILROAD FAIR, 1948
3 days ago