The Hollow Supermen

In "Secret Origins" #46 (December, 1989) the Justice League's costumes are appropriated by invisible aliens.

This is during the post-Crisis, pre-Infinite Crisis era when Black Canary had taken Wonder Woman's place on the team's founding roster, by the way. Thank God that miscarriage of justice has been rectified, huh? Kidding. I actually don't give a rat's ass! Psyche! Although I did like the notion of the League being started entirely by second-stringers, and Wonder Woman, Batman, and Superman (a.k.a. the Cool Table) only bothering to join after the team had garnered some name recognition. It was a little more like real life. Ah, well.

The team rounds up the renegade costumes in one of Green Lantern's force bubbles, although if you ask me a couple of drycleaning bags would have worked just as well. And thankfully, the League members all have duplicate costumes to wear. Except for Aquaman. "This was the best I could manage," he sheepishly explains. He'll use the same excuse during his One Big Metal Shoulderpad phase. Although if you ask me, he looks better in just the trunks! (And I'm apparently not the only one thinking that; check out Barry's line of sight in that panel.) And I'm having a little trouble believing that Black Canary has duplicate wigs just laying around her house. Who is she, Eva Gabor?

As it turns out, the aliens are benevolent (but of course, since this is a Grant Morrison story, and I'm sure if he could have shoehorned in the American Military-Industrial Complex as the actual villain I'm sure he would have) and at the end everyone learns a nice lesson about not jumping to conclusions, and the League would never have another battle based on a misunderstanding ever, ever again. (What?! Why are you looking at me like that?) But the main thing I learned is that some of those costumes are more interesting than the heroes wearing them! Here's my personal tally:

• Martian Manhunter: wildly uneven characterization ranging from boring standard superhero to boring J.M. DeMatteis hippie pacifist to boring Kelsey Grammar rip-off in the Bwah-Ha-Ha League to boring angst-ridden nearly-omnipotent Mopee stand-in in the Ostrander series to his currently boring 10-years-too-late badass personality. His costume: regulation superhero trunks 'n' boots, plus a red X-shaped harness, a cape with a high stiff collar, and a belt buckle shaped like a delicious French pastry. Advantage: costume.
• Black Canary: flower-sellin' gal with a butch brunette haircut who whores it up with a sexpot costume and her loudmouth Commie boyfriend. But she does know karate and she drives a chopper. Her costume: bustier with built-in panties, fishnets, high-heeled boots, teeny toreador jacket, velvet choker, and a gorgeous blonde wig (or two, apparently). Advantage: this is a tough one, but I'm going to have to give it to the costume, mainly because it's never blown Green Arrow.
• The Barry Allen Flash: are you kidding me? Advantage: costume. That said, I wish it had died with Barry. And no, changing up the lightning-belt doesn't count.
• Green Lantern: Jerky commitment-phobe racist murderer with a thing for teenage girls. His costume: for a while, it was the standard in super-garb. Classic lines, especially once the green part extended over the shoulders. Plus the chest logo is graphically clean and easy to comprehend. Advantage: in an upset, Green Lantern. I mean, sure, he's a terrible human being. But you must admit that he is interesting!
• Aquaman: again, a victim of inconsistent characterization but the prevailing one seems to be "standoffish monarch" which is way too Sub-Mariner for my tastes. His costume: shirt handcrafted from the skins of a thousand goldfish, trunkless green tights with built-in calf-fins, matching green gloves, and a logo-themed belt buckle. Advantage: aw, how can I say "no" to those broad shoulders? The costume, of course! I've based my entire design career around its neckline! How could I let it down now, in its time of need?

Your turn! Are there any other heroes out there with costumes that are more engaging than they are? Or vice-versa? Tell me about them!

The Unflattering Accessories Of Doctor Destiny!

In "Justice League of America" #34 (March, 1965), bad apple Doctor Destiny fancies himself a personal stylist and literally "dreams up" some accessories for the team.



The haunted haberdashery puts a serious crimp in the League's crimefighting efforts. But more importantly, most of it just doesn't look very good! Why, if I had been in charge of the dialog... *cue harp glissando*

Superman: These glasses -- have given me the appearance of a stocky 60's business executive at a costume party... and the urge to down like, nine martinis, while chainsmoking and pinching my buxom secretary's ass!

Batman: This high school class ring on my hand -- paints me as a loser whose only success was as a varsity football hero! And now it's ten years later and I'm working as a delivery boy for a Chinese take-out joint, and I've gotten so chubby the goddamn ring won't come off my fat finger, and sometimes I have to deliver eggrolls to old classmates of mine, and they're living in these big fancy houses with gorgeous babes hanging off their arms, and the chicks look at me with this little sneer on their face like "Who's the loser?" and I think back about how I used to give the guy she's sleeping with a "swirly" in the boy's bathroom pretty much every day and now he's banging this hottie and then he pays me with a twenty and says "Keep the change" and I try to say "no" but he puts the money in my shirt pocket like he's doing me a fucking favor and he looks sincerely concerned about me and at that point I really want to give him another swirly.

Hawkman: Ever since these gloves appeared on my hands, I can do the dishes without the harsh detergents ruining my lovely hands! Also, just by having a little more skin covered up I now realize how creepy it is for me to galavant about in public with my shirt off in the still-square days of 1965, I mean, if it was the late 90's and I was a college boy at Lollapalooza with this amazing body sure I'd probably be shirtless along with all the other short-haired pseudo-hippie frat boys buying a six-foot-tall bong with my daddy's American Express card and pumping my fists to a Snoop Dogg number and thinking about date-raping that high school girl I'd flirted with fifteen minutes ago but right now? Kinda creepy. Also, I really wish I knew what happened to my nipples... and my package!

Wonder Woman: How can I defeat my foe, when the mask I'm wearing betrays my penchant for buying glitzy crap on QVC? It's covered in genuine cubic zirconia! I'm paying for it in twelve E-Z installments of $89.95! My house is filled with junk like this! I can't seem to help myself! Please, somebody help me! I'm living on cat food!

The Atom: And what chance do I have of overcoming my foe when I look like a complete dork? Also, I have an antenna on my head! I look like a bottle of liquid soap! No, I said only I only look like -- HEY! Put me down! Don't squeeze -- AAAAARRRGGGHHH!!! *dies*

And to answer your question, Steven, I haven't forgetten about the "supervillain accessories" post. By which I mean I did completely forget about it until just now. D'oh!

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.

"The Super-Power of Negative Thinking!" (Justice League of America #158)

About that cover: there's a small coloring error. As the interior artwork can attest, Ultraa's thighs are actually bare. Who wears short-shorts? Ultraa wears short-shorts!

The September, 1978 issue of "Justice League of America" begins with the Flash and Wonder Woman interrupting a museum robbery. The perpetrators are Poison Ivy and Mirror Master, and the felonious pair does a fine job of smacking down the superheroes. But then Ultraa bursts onto the scene! So they smack him down, too. Though temporarily blinded by Mirror Master, Wonder Woman zeroes in on his voice, which she likens to "a foghorn." Great. From now on, whenever I read Mirror Master's dialogue, I'm going to hear Harvey Fierstein. Wonder Woman calls upon her years of warrior training to... shove Mirror Master down. Mirror Master falls onto Poison Ivy, who has caught her right foot in part of a sound effect. And oh, how I wish I was making that up. Mirror Master manages to flip himself over and deliver a very impressive Rockette-style kick to Wonder Woman's noggin. With all three heroes down for the count, Mirror Master and Poison Ivy vanish, along with their loot: a sundial.

In a big, steaming pile of expository dialogue, Wonder Woman tells the Flash about her U.N. job, reminds him of the fact that they'd enjoyed dinner together the previous night (What the hell?) and explains that the sundial is "worthless." Ultraa flips out: "You mean -- those villains jeopardized the lives of innocent people -- for an object of no value? That is -- unconscionable! ...Any act which endangers life is an act of evil! Particularly the act of a super-being! We have such power... we could destroy all humanity!" Ultraa flies off in a huff (sound effect: "SWOOSH"), leaving the Flash and Wonder Woman thinking, basically, "What's his deal?" The museum's employees and patrons poke their heads through a door and ask if it's safe to come out. The Flash reacts to this perfectly sensible question like a total asshole, which is something of a recurring motif in this story. His scarlet forehead all a-wrinkle with consternation, the Flash marvels, "Have you been hiding here the whole time? --Cowering?" The civilians compare superhero battles to "a combination earthquake and hurricane." So it's like any given day in Japan, then. In a silent panel, Wonder Woman and the Flash look at each other like, "Do you believe these pussies?" But safely away from the powerless human cattle, the Flash admits that they may have a point.

Later, Chronos, the Tattooed Man, and the Scarecrow welcome Poison Ivy and Mirror Master to "the new headquarters of the Injustice Gang!" First-time visitor Poison Ivy can't help but notice that the Injustice Gang's hideout is in the former location of the Justice League's headquarters. (Now, that's a ballsy real estate agent. "Superman, I've found an anonymous group of motivated buyers for your property, and they're ready to close on the deal today!" "Great! Say, they're not evil, are they?" "Ummmm... no.") The super-crooks add the sundial to their other swag, which includes models of a windmill, an oil derrick, and a hydroelectric dam. The group's mastermind, a towering, cloaked figure, explains that the artifacts were left on Earth by an alien race that intended to return and use them to control "the power output of the entire planet... leaving Earth barren... and reducing man to savagery once more!" The other villains think this story is total bullshit, so they immediately start hassling him with questions like "If these aliens are so powerful, why haven't they come back like you said?" The cloaked man isn't about to stand for insubordination, so he either grows to about three stories tall, or levitates -- the panel composition makes it hard to tell. Either way, it leaves the rest of the Injustice Gang staring up at him, their elbows akimbo, and for some reason most of them are standing with their legs spread about three feet apart.

At the Justice League's new headquarters, the assembled superheroes dish about Ultraa, just in time for the hotpanted dynamo to hurtle through the wall. He uses a ray-gun to bathe the Justice League in "negative waves" which "affect your thinking... your ego... your entire personality -- negatively!" Those negative waves are like the 700 Club, moveon.org, and the Atkins Diet, all rolled into one! "Never again will you be able to use your super-powers!" Ultraa boasts. The Flash skids into a wall. (Sound effect: "CHWOMP." Just what, exactly, is that wall composed of? Rice Krispie squares?) Superman has a dramatic little hissyfit about his vulnerability to Kryptonite in an oddly drawn panel -- he looks like he's shadowboxing while passing a kidney stone. The rest of the superheroes give up without a fight. Ultraa next uses the ray-gun on the Injustice Gang -- secretly, and without bothering to stick around and see if it works or not -- so he has no idea that the "negative waves" have actually boosted their self-esteem.

Feeling pretty darned good about themselves, the Injustice Gang proceeds to cripple the world's energy supplies. The Justice League monitors convey images of a waterfall that has halted in mid-descent, a windmill that refuses to turn, and oil rigs that have gone dry. Since there is no interesting way of depicting malfunctioning solar panels, we instead get to see a mob of people who are all shivering and hollow-eyed because there is snow on top of their heads. Put on a fucking hat, you idiots! Ultraa insists on facing the Injustice Gang by himself. The Tattooed Man attacks him with a living hawk tattoo. The Scarecrow incapacitates Ultraa with "fear pellets." Chronos uses his "time-gun" to... well, it's never made clear just what effect the time-gun has. It shoots tiny little sundials. Maybe they're really itchy. The Justice League has to go save Ultraa's sorry ass, but there's the whole negative wave problem. Superman suggests that they act as a mutual support group and cheer one another on. The final three pages of this story depict the League triumphing over the Injustice Gang while spouting stomach-turning affirmations like "I have to believe in myself, in my own will! Have to fight... fight my greatest enemy... myself!" Oh, and the man in the cloak turns out to be the old Flash villain, Abra Kadabra. And he was about fourteen feet tall for most of the story because...? Never mind. I don't care. Superman looks askance at the now-chastened Ultraa, and wonders, "After this, can we ever trust him? What do we do with him now?" With "headache lines" emanating from his cranium (and mine), the Flash replies, "I wish I knew, Superman. Right now, that's one question I simply can't answer..." Because it's the bottom of the last page, and there's no more room! It's the comic book equivalent of "called on account of rain." The writer just rolls a giant tarp over the script and then everybody goes home.

Also in this comic: join the Sales Leadership Club, sell only eighteen boxes of personalized Christmas cards, and win a "color TV video game!" This was in 1978, so I'm going to make a wild guess, here: it's "Pong."