Category Archives: Bad Super Costumes

I find it hard to put into words how bad Dumas's costume is, so I'm just going to let it speak for itself:

I can't believe this guy is French. They invented fashion, and this is the best they can do? On further reflection, of course, you begin to realize that while the character is French, the person who actually designed him was almost surely American.

No wonder they hate us.

I have to ask a few questions though, like why does he have a white fur stole stapled to his head? Can he sit down without those gigantic hip spikes destroying the chair? What's going to pop out of that big ring hanging down over his crotch? How does he raise his right arm over his head? And why are his greaves on backwards?

Oh, wait, he's French -- he's probably running away a lot, so it makes sense to protect the backs of his legs.

I don't think I'm exactly helping Franco-American relations here. I'd better quit before I say something really offensive, like wondering if French cuisine was the inspiration for this outfit's "rotten pea-soup green and stinky moldy cheese-yellow" color scheme.

Aaaaaaaaand we're done. Now go away or I shall taunt you a second time!

(Character and image © DC Comics, Inc.)

Heaven knows the 1970's were a black hole of bad fashion, but I don't think most people appreciate that in many ways, the Eighties were even worse. Luckily we have Black Thorn around to remind us of that fact:

If you've ever wondered why so many men started shaving their heads in the Nineties, you've got this sort of Eighties "Perm From the Black Lagoon" to thank -- after seeing that horror, we all just decided that bare was better. I can only shudder at the man-hours wasted primping, crimping, and styling that mess. I bet she leaves grease spots on the windows of the Mystery Van when she naps.

Oh, wait, that's Scooby Doo -- my bad.

Regardless, the hideous green ski shades don't help any. Maybe they're sharpshooter specs, although I thought those were yellow. At least then they'd go with the giant banana peels she's got instead of a cape, and the ginormous pineapple slices she's using as bracelets. I suspect her secret identity is somehow tied in to the Dole family of fruit-related products.

I can almost forgive the purple leather fetish gear that semi-clothes the rest of her figure, although I honestly don't understand it. Why would you cut out the side of your outfit? Why would you leave bands around your biceps? Why would you wear capri-length pants and then, by the name of all that's holy, put white tube socks underneath them? It's a good thing she's dating the detective Vigilante, because someone needs to figure out who foisted this horrendous design on her.

And then she needs to use that massive pistol to shoot him dead. Because no one should be forced to dress like that, not even refugees from the Eighties.

(Character & Impage ©DC Comics, Inc.)

Note to Brainiac:

If you're going to go out in public and duke it out with the likes of Superman, remember to remove your jammies first. It's not a good idea to go out in your sleepwear, especially if you also have a frilly mohawk and your nightie is pink. I don't even want to ask why you need kneepads in your sleeping suit, to each his own, but that "30th Century Chunky Farmboy in Overalls" look is just not gonna get it done, son.

All those brains and still he can't put together a reasonable outfit. Makes you kind of appreciate Tyra Banks and the "Top Model" crew a little, you know?

This week's installment of Bad Super Hero Costumes focuses more on the broader issue of Black guys who are super-heroes, and why they always have to have "Black" in their name. It's never "Superman the White" or "Batman the Pasty", although I'll have to go ahead and give you Gandalf the Gray. But dude was hanging out with hobbits, you know, the racial thing just doesn't play when you're worried about Sauron turning everyone into orcs, you know?

Which brings us to "Vykin the (of course) Black":

First of all, from a purely sartorial standpoint, he looks like an idiot. He's wearing athletic socks. Blue athletic socks. That's just not cool, especially after middle school's over. Take in the matching sweatbands and the skull-sucking awesomeness of an old-school leather football helmet dipped in avocado and you've got yourself a fashion disaster.

But that's not the worst thing.

It's not as bad, for instance, as having one Black guy on the team and sticking him with "The Black". We can see he's Black, do you have to point it out right in his name? If he were working for The White Queen, maybe, but that's a totally different title and the connotations are different, so don't try to get smart with me. And yes, to their credit Marvel did drop "The Black" in later years.

But that's not the worst thing.

I can forgive blue athletic socks, even though it pains me. I can forgive the subtle racism of his moniker. But what I can't get past is that they a) put him in a lawn ornament pose and b) gave him the job of carrying the team's m----- f---ing luggage! Yes, the main job of the only Black guy on the team was as follows, and I quote:

"It is Vykin who carries the Forever People's Mother Box."

Let's all just have a moment of silence to be thankful that the Sixties and Seventies are over, folks. At least now they don't make Black Lightning or Black Mass or the Black Panther carry the team's bags. That's just low, man.

The future, my friends, is more horrifying than you can imagine, because not only has Disco survived, it's thrived and has its own super-hero champion:

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When you're designing your super-hero costume, you should make a particular effort not to forget a few fundamentally important bits. Like pants:

Apparently Gim Allon (aka "Colossal Boy" from "The Legion of Super-Heroes") never heard that particular adage. Now, granted, sometimes it's all right to leave your house just in spandex Underoos, but not -- and this is a key exception here kids, so pay attention -- if you're also wearing a bondage harness on your upper body. Along with a Onesie that has built-in shoulder pads. I keep expecting Shadow Lass to hook a chain to his collar and lead him off to the Danger Room for a little "Battle Simulation", if you know what I mean. And judging by the humiliated look on his face, I think Gim most definitely does.

Women suffer for fashion, whether it's cramming their feet into way-too-small high heels, tying themselves into the torture devices we call corsets, or -- as in this case -- crushing their skulls into a face-deforming gigantic time-release medicine capsule:

That's "Lethal", as rendered by Jeff Matsuda in the 1993 Issue Zero of "Brigade" from -- wait for it -- Image Comics. Shocking, isn't it? Let us count the ways this headgear sucks:

1. No way she doesn't chop its top off when drawing her giant samurai swords. No way.
2. It has an enormous flowing red ribbon topknot. On a helmet. Not actual hair coming out of her head, this is faux hair in a faux pony-tail, clocking in at a good ten feet in length. Maybe she was an Olympic ribbon-dancer at some point and couldn't let go of the glory days, I don't know, but five'll get you ten at some point it chokes her to death. At least the guy behind her recognizes the danger, since he's apparently blowing it apart with his frantic gunfire.
3. It makes her look like an "Aliens" love child.
4. Her eyes have been squashed way out to the side where no actual human eyes would ever be naturally, and her nose has been completely crushed. Now that's being a slave to fashion, folks.

Besides the helmet, the costume has other difficulties as well, starting with the fact that her breasts have been ripped off and stitched to her collarbones. That's gotta hurt. Then she's got that ribbed shoulder collar thing that makes her look like an NFL linebacker:

Of course you also have the obligatory thigh-purse full of completely-inaccessible pouches of whatever and the incredibly flexible armor with full-on ankle joints that have hinges for no reason, since they don't actually connect to footwear.

So you can forgive Lethal if she appears a bit cranky; you would be too if your face were being crushed and eaten by your helmet. She's not the first woman to suffer for fashion, and thanks to her handy-dandy swords, she won't be the last.

(All characters and images ©1993, Rob Liefeld.)

I like John Byrne's art. It's clean, simple, anatomically accurate, dynamic, and interesting. And usually, I like his costume designs, particularly his "Alpha Flight" team, but one of those Canucks has always bugged me:

I sympathize with Puck's dilemma. He wants a big ol' letter on his chest just like Superman, but he's so small the letter takes up his entire body. It still looks ridiculous, though, as if his mom wrote his initials in his costume so he wouldn't lose it at camp, only she drew them REALLY REALLY BIG.

The other problem is that the short-shorts conspire with the fireplug helmet to make him look even shorter. It'd be like Fat Albert wearing horizontal stripes; why accentuate your problem areas?

I do appreciate Byrne throwing a bone to the more hirsute members of his reading audience (werewolves, yetis, and me) by throwing on the copious amounts of body hair, but any time you have a character whose head is at waist-level to most people, the last thing you want to do is to make them think "pee". I'm just sayin'.

Rather than focusing on a bad costume this week, I want to take a moment and talk about another common blight on the super-hero comic landscape: bad anatomy.

Examples abound, but let's focus on just this one panel from "Prophet" number 4, which is ©1994, Rob Liefeld. Note that Liefeld isn't the illustrator here, just the creator/writer*. No, the "honors" for the inking and pencils both go to Stephen Platt (which shows why having the same guy do the inking and penciling both can be a really bad idea, but that's a rant for another day). Anyway, here's the panel:

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