Diana’s Mid-Life Crisis
By now you’ve surely heard: the internet is all in a tizzy over Wonder Woman. As is often the case, we’ve gotten up in arms over something that doesn’t actually matter to most of us. Until it does. Usually this sort of thing is a result of change (“raping our childhood” in geek parlance) radical, misguided or out-of-left field enough to be covered by a major media outlet – in this case, The New York Times.
Hot on the heels of the recent Superman #700 anniversary issue, DC has put the spotlight on the Amazon, with a re-numbering, re-design and complete re-imagining in Wonder Woman #600, bringing an end to the post-Infinite Crisis numbering and generally well-received and top 100 selling run of writer Gail Simone. Beginning with #600, J. Michael Straczynski will be pulling Wonder Woman’s strings, with a new look courtesy of DC co-publisher Jim Lee and art by Don Kramer and Michael Babinski. The issue in question was released to comic shops this Wednesday.
Ultimately, the furor on the internet has nothing to do with the issue itself. The truth of the matter is that, regardless of her status in the Big Three, her ubiquity or her sales figures, most of us geeks don’t really know Wonder Woman. We don’t read her comics, we don’t think of her as a relevant character – to us, she will always be Lynda Carter or, at best, Diana in the excellent Justice League cartoon. Certainly, over the years, DC has tried to change her, to make her mean more to the DCU (her actions in the past few years, in particular her murder of Maxwell Lord in the lead-up to Infinite Crisis are indicative of this), but it really hasn’t taken root. Not among the geeks, and most certainly not among the general populace. DC has really tried everything short of a wholesale do-over and none of it has really worked. Why not? What’s the problem here?
The Trouble With Icons

DC’s greatest strength, unfortunately, is also its Achilles’ Heel. They were the first, the originators. As such, they had the opportunity to create the templates of powers and personalities that everyone else riffs off of. They have the icons. There is, for better or worse, no superhero in comics that isn’t a direct descendant of one of DC’s flagship characters. Every personality, every origin and every costume is a reaction to a DC stalwart. Wolverine is Batman who goes too far. Spiderman owes his existence to being the opposite of Superman. Every female superhero, from Jean Grey to Atom Eve to Shi carries within her part of Diana of Themiscyra’s DNA – even if it’s just something to rebel against and not be.
DC’s marquee characters are capital “I” Icons. As such, they’re extremely recognizable, extremely popular but also extremely inflexible in the public’s minds and, I would venture to guess, very, very difficult to write for. What world-breaking Superman story can you tell that hasn’t already been told in some form? How is this Batman tale of gothic noir tragedy different from that one? I would argue that DC’s greatest successes in keeping characters fresh has been in its tales of “legacy” heroes – the sons, the daughters, sidekicks, copycats and reluctant heroes who have had the mantle of established superheroics thrust upon them. Those stories about responsibility and heroism have made the most of DC’s long history and proven that an Icon is more about what it stands for than the actual person inside. It’s allowed, for example, the star-spanning saga of the Green Lanterns, or the deeply personal and quirky family saga of the various Starmen.
But you always have to have Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne and Diana Prince. Those three must always be the ones donning the tights. And they have their set personality archetypes, the Man of Tomorrow, the Dark Detective and the Amazon. They, in essence really don’t, can’t and shouldn’t have a character arc.
To put it another way, the best stories involving the Big Three are non-continuity stories that give us different perspectives on who these familiar people are – origin stories, alternate-universe stories, defining moment stories.
All-New, All-Different
This is also why, periodically, DC has the need to wipe out their existing continuity and reboot their line. While very rarely a full re-write, events like Crisis on Infinite Earths or Zero Hour allow the DCU to be fine-tuned and updated, keeping what works and cutting what doesn’t. They also allow writers to start the marquee characters over, giving them the opportunity to tell the oft-told stories from a new perspective. And because these big events essentially alter the nature of space/time in the DCU, these revisions make sense – insofar as anything in comics continuity can, at any rate.
But this reboot of Wonder Woman is not that. This reboot is essentially re-setting her continuity entirely without a big cosmological events causing the re-wind of time. There’s no Hypertime going on here, none of Grant Morrison’s “superconsistency”. Instead, like the recent ill-fated, ill-advised and still not entirely rectified reboot of Spiderman (which JMS also had a hand in, coincidentally), it’s something that’s just “happening”. Literally through a deus ex machina – in this case the Greek gods have withdrawn their protection of Wonder Woman, her people and her island, retroactively, altering her entire timeline. It remains to be seen whether this will end up making any sense. While I understand the desire to get Wonder Woman away from the Greek mythology rehashes and make her more more of a street-level character (though, let’s be honest, she is and should always have been Superman-level), I’m not convinced that this is the way to go about it. She could personally decide to change her focus without changing her origin. A falling out with the Greek gods didn’t necessarily have to cause some kind of temporal paradox. Frankly, it’s terrifying from a storytelling and continuity perspective that an irrelevant, un-worshipped pantheon would have that kind of power over time and space. Then there’s the question – hopefully to be addressed – of why with so many people attuned to the flow of time in the DCU, no one noticed this coming?
This new day finds Diana alone, living essentially in hiding in the big city. When Wonder Woman was a child, Themiscyra was invaded and destroyed by an unknown adversary. Queen Hippolyta, in an attempt to save her daughter and stave off the complete extinction of the Amazons, sent baby Diana out into Man’s World with a small cadre of protectors. The Wonder Woman of old, the one we knew, is gone. She has little memory of Paradise Island, and next to no idea of who she was before time was re-written. She is also a natural-born Amazon, no longer a child of clay empowered by the gods, any advantages she has over normal humans are due to training and superior genetics. There is no divinity in her makeup, and very little magic among whatever Amazons are left. This is not your mother’s Wonder Woman, in other words.
In his interview with the New York Times, J. Michael Straczynski focused almost exclusively on the change in costume, making it almost seem as though the costume was his primary motivation.
“She’s been locked into pretty much the exact same outfit since her debut in 1941,” Mr. Straczynski wrote. “If you’re going to make a statement about bringing Wonder Woman into the 21st century, you need to be bold and you need to make it visual. I wanted to toughen her up, and give her a modern sensibility.”
He added, “What woman only wears only one outfit for 60-plus years?”
The costume is, obviously a big deal to him. It would seem, from the coverage, that the story is almost an afterthought. And though I’d like to give him more credit than that, somehow I can’t help feeling that something about the idea of a mighty warrior going urban, “gritty” and street-level is a little hackneyed at this point. I’m not going to pre-judge the story, it might turn out to be a fun, interesting romp, but it just doesn’t seem right for Diana. And so I have to wonder, what was the point? Which came first, the costume or the story? And if the costume came first, we have some real problems.
Then, of course, there’s another matter that often goes unspoken among geeks, but really should be addressed. There is a disturbing, and persistent trend among comics companies and comics creators when it comes to new creative teams. If it’s a quiet change, a lower or mid-level team coming on, then they are tasked with essentially creating good stories within the status quo, preserving the character and doing what they can within an existing framework. Whenever an amateur writer submits a script to an existing character, they are very specifically instructed not to change anything, to tell an interesting story without introducing new characters or altering existing ones. In other words, they are instructed to tell stories that lack an arc. The rationale is that simply introducing new elements is lazy, that one should be able to create with the tools one already has. Conversely, when a superstar creative team takes over a title or resurrects a character, it inevitably leads to a complete re-boot, tearing down the characters and re-building them in the writer’s image – and this is often done without much in the way of buildup or logic. Witness, for example, Grant Morrison’s run on X-Men (that Marvel is still working slowly to un-do, if you ask me). If this kind of thing is unacceptable and uncreative coming from an amateur, why is it suddenly such a great thing coming from a big name?
There is a middle ground, after all. The kind of path taken by respected, experienced but not-quite-celebrity creative teams, people like Ed Brubaker, James Robinson, Gail Simone and Brian Michael Bendis (yes, he’s a superstar now, but he wasn’t always), which is to take the character, tell interesting stories, and slowly, almost imperceptibly evolve them until the point where massive change not only seems logical, but inevitable. But this only works if the creative team builds from what’s there and is given the chance to have a long-view. Ninety percent of the time, people change by evolution, not revolution. Why should it be different for comics characters?
So this leads me to ask: Why? That’s the main problem with the Wonder Woman re-boot at a high level. Couldn’t she have been updated and made relevant through growth rather than seismic upheaval? And what makes this different from “Electric Superman” or “Extreme Batman” (not to mention Armored Daredevil or Scarlet Spider)?
Dressing the Part

What people are really focusing on, for better or worse, is the change of clothing. It’s probably why you’re reading this article at all, to see another geek get up in arms over the loss of star-spangled panties. I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not going to do that.
Frankly, as costumes go, the Jim Lee-design is not bad. That doesn’t mean it’s necessarily good, either. It definitely does some things right while getting others really quite wrong. It’s very meh, and I don’t expect it will last. Which is a shame, because the reasons behind the re-design are solid, and with some more care could have ended up being quite memorable.
Wonder Woman’s original costume design is a classic. It’s bold, it’s colorful, it makes a statement about Wonder Woman, it works. There’s a reason why, barring special battle, ceremonial and undercover outfits (and a 60′s flirtation with Mod), the Amazon’s uniform has hardly changed over 70 years besides minor modifications. The one aspect that has changed most often is the panties/shorts/skirt issue on the star-spangled bottoms.
Wonder Woman’s original costume design is a product of its time. It’s garish, jingoistic and makes a statement about the 40′s attitudes towards women, it needs an update. Granted, she is invulnerable, but no one ever sees Superman wearing anything vulnerable to wardrobe malfunctions. Batman only ever show’s skin when he’s dueling with Ra’s Al Ghul. It shouldn’t be so much to ask for Wonder Woman to have a little dignity, to get out of the spiked heels and look like the warrior she is.
Does the new costume preserve what was good about Diana’s look while fixing what was wrong? Again, kind of.

The main change, the thing that gets you right off the bat, is pants. Yes, actual leg-coverings. Of the kind that Diana hasn’t worn in the line of duty since the 1960′s. They are the most striking and logical – to a point – feature of the new design. We’re all used to seeing the Amazon bare-legged. Even her battle armor left her legs uncovered. The pants, incidentally, are black leather, unadorned, and apparently join with the boots, which still have a bit of a heel. The only flourishes on her lower half are a wallet-chain-like configuration for her lasso, and a kind of ornate gold stirrup thing at the ankle.
Moving up, Lee preserved the general look of the classic bustier, but converted it to a scoop-neck halter, obviously made of cloth and what seems to be golden lasso in something similar to a Japanese bondage configuration around the shoulders and under the arms. The gold trim at the bust and waist are probably in metal, which might be a little heavy and impractical, but help her stay true to her Paradise Island roots.
Next is the jacket. It’s a blue leather motorcycle jacket, cut to about mid-back and rolled up at the elbows. According to Lee and Straczynski, this accessory allows Wonder Woman freedom of choice- she can close it up and go stealthy, passing unnoticed among civilians or lose it entirely to free up her arms for combat.
Diana is also wearing a little bling. Her tiara and bracelets have returned, in re-worked configurations. The tiara is now much smaller and thinner, essentially a thin, stylized band with a red star centered on her forehead. The bracelets are now lace up bracers and gauntlets, and look much more complex than the traditional silver bands. They’re significantly more “ancient Greek”, but seem somewhat out-of place with the rest of her outfit. Then there’s the choker. It’s a choker. With a gold medallion. That’s really all there is to that.
The costume’s main claim is practicality. Wonder Woman is now living in a city environment, operating on what is essentially street level, and trying to keep a low profile lest whomever destroyed Paradise Island find her and kill the last of the Amazons. In this new status quo, she is an orphan, an exile sent to Man’s World as a child to escape from the destruction of her home. Yes. Just like Superman. But, unlike Kal El, she is neither adopted by a kindly couple in an idyllic farm setting, nor is she invulnerable. The low-key costume makes perfect sense in this regard. It preserves her heritage while allowing her to blend in, it offers some degree of protection, and – at least insofar as comics writers and artists and fans are concerned – is practical for street fighting.
Unfortunately, the new costume isn’t quite defensible otherwise.
The Comics Decade that Refuses to Die
Before dissecting where the costume goes wrong, I’d like to get a little into why it went wrong. I would like to discuss this while giving everyone involved the benefit of the doubt, but it comes down to who the creators are and where they come from, especially in the case of designer Jim Lee.
J. Michael Straczynski is the writer. Generally in these sorts of situations, a writer will offer a paragraph describing the look they want, possibly a badly done sketch, and then provide feedback to the artist once the costume is created. Though not exactly uninvolved, a writer is likely to look at visual design elements as a series of bullet-points in service of the story, leaving the details to the artist. It’s a matter of trust. And, when dealing with a big name like Jim Lee (who, as DC’s Co-Publisher, also technically Straczynski’s superior) the writer is expected to trust implicitly.
However, Lee, despite his skills in draftsmanship and layouts, is, frankly, not a very good designer. And I would argue that this isn’t entirely his fault, at least not these days. Jim Lee rose to comics prominence in the late 80′s and early 1990′s, along with the other youngbloods that went on to form Image comics. He cut his teeth on books like Punisher before really coming into his own on X-Men, where he offered re-designs of a number of the core characters.

Generally, like many of his contemporaries, his re-designs involved tighter clothing, more skin, bigger hair, Member’s Only Jackets for everyone, and lots and lots of pouches. This was neither unusual nor especially unexpected at the time. In the 1990s, comics had yet to really break into the mainstream, culturally. Yes, there was the speculator boom, but no one outside the fanboys was really talking about things like composition, design and writing. The only people actually opening a comic where fanboys who associated with other fanboys and found themselves caught in a feedback loop where what was cool was essentially more of what was already on the page. So more skin, bigger hair, more crosshatching, more grimacing.
It didn’t help that when young artists looked around to TV and movies and fashion for inspiration, what they found were the early 90s – a complete sartorial wasteland that gave us things like Vanilla Ice, Lisa Left-Eye Lopes, Sienfeld and Deanna Troi’s hair.
But they made it big, these young artists. Jim Lee went from being the superstar X-Artist to creating his own universe in the form of Wild C.A.T.S., who, from a costume design perspective, embodied all the wretched 90s (eXtreme) excess of Marvel’s superteams with none of the tradition of tights and capes that would have held them back.

The results speak for themselves. It wasn’t until Travis Charest and Wild C.A.T.S.’ relaunch as an alien corporate espionage thriller that the characters got around to looking less incredibly stupid. I’d love to be more generous than that, but, really, they looked incredibly stupid. In their defense, though, so did every other character in comics at the time. Recall, if you will, Spider-Man in a Hoodie, Hoochie Invisible Woman, Non-Child Safe Mecha-Batman and the steaming pile known only as Fate. I wanted to keep this post reasonable and professional, but, just look at them. It seemed that for better part of a decade, comics creators completely lost sight of what makes a good-looking comic book character.
Unfortunately, this is the environment that Jim Lee came up in. This is when he met his greatest artistic success. Just as Lee and JMS argue that Wonder Woman is stuck in 1941, I believe that it’s fair to say that, from a design standpoint, Lee and his Image founder brethren are still stuck in 1991. And the world, not just in comics, but also in fashion and art design, has moved on.
With all this said, time to delve into the nitty gritty of what’s wrong with this costume design. I hope you’re still with me, because it’s taken us a long time to get to this point, and we still have a long way to go.
Shopping at the Wrong Stores, or, How Not to Win Project Runway
First of all, I suggest having a look at this posting by Sonia Harris at Comic Book Resources. She very ably articulates many of the real-world fashion problems with Wonder Woman’s new look. I’ll be expanding and giving my spin on a number of the same points and then offering suggestions as to where the re-design could have gone, including some fantastic fan and pro artwork that articulates how this costume could have been better.
Let’s assume, then, based on Straczynski’s comments, that the “street”, civilian-based look of the costume has some story significance, that, for better or worse, she can’t go “iconic”. While I believe that it’s a mistake to move away from classic superhero, and that this approach will kill the new design before long, I think that what Lee went with is silly, unfashionable and ham-fisted. Starting with the jacket.
Oh lord how I hate that jacket. Maybe it’s the fact that I spend so much time with females, or that I personally like to think I have decent fashion sense, or maybe that it looks like Diana was either shopping at Superboy’s estate sale, but I really hate that jacket. And I don’t think that I’ve seen anyone outside comics wear anything like that in about fifteen years, unless they were going to an 80′s party or being ironic hipsters. Where did she even get a black leather jacket that ends halfway down her back? Actually, I know where. I’ve seen them moldering in thrift stores.

And, look, it’s not that I don’t think she could have a jacket. If what she needs is a quick way to cover up her shiny insignia, there are certainly other, better, and ultimately cooler-looking ways of doing it. In the posting linked above, Ms. Harris mentions that one of the current trends in women’s outerwear is jackets with a military-esque cut and styling. I wholeheartedly agree with her that this would have been the best possible solution to Diana’s outerwear dilemma. Not only is it actual, current fashion, which should be a plus, but it’s also evocative of the character. Think about it – she’s a fighter, a warrior. In one of her prior incarnations, she was part of the armed forces for a time. The decorative elements that are common on military (and therefore, military-inspired) apparel are the same as those on Wonder Woman herself – stars and eagles. Moreover, modern military-style women’s blazers are very structured, fitting well on wide shoulders, flowing down over the bust, then tapering to emphasize a small waist before flaring out again slightly at the hips. Think about it – in all of comics, no female character has (or really, should have) a wider shoulder to waist to hip ratio than an Amazon. They are solidly-built, strong ladies with abs of steel who can kick a man across a room. The look was made for them. From that perspective, there is absolutely no reason she shouldn’t just be rocking Diana Prince’s Vintage WWII Navy dress blue Navy jacket.
There are other, less fashionable or appropriate, but still better alternatives. Obviously I’m not going to suggest that she wear a cardigan or a hoodie, but if the military styling isn’t for her, there are still women’s fitted blazers that are fairly structured and masculine that still say “sleek” while still emphasizing the strong shoulders. I mean, sure, she’d want to stay away from unstructrured jackets – they’d be fair too girly for her, but the point is, there are options.
And say she wants to look rough and tumble? Fine, there are still many ways she can do that. An oversized vintage parka would give her room to maneuver, allow her to blend into a crowd, and de-emphasize her size – possibly allowing her to be underestimated. Thigh-length raincoat or hoodie and roughed-up blazer combo would serve much the same purpose while giving the additional advantage of a hood. Stealthy superheroes love hoods. Hell, there’s even leather jackets that would work – and she could go to one of two extremes, either of which would allow her to incorporate her iconic symbols: retro-punk biker jacket on one end or a super-sleek paneled sportbike jacket on the other.
I really hate to harp on the jacket, but I swear that I saw the same damned thing on Rogue twenty years ago.
While I’m not as up-in arms about the pants as Harris, given that form-fitting leggings are a tried-and-true part of many superhero’s wardrobes, I feel that they really are a missed opportunity in this case. I’m all for giving Diana pants, but did they absolutely have to be black and leather/vinyl-looking? For one, if your goal is practicality, binding, inflexible leather pants are not the way to go. For another, and more importantly to me, what part of Wonder Woman says “black leather pants”? Black is not the color of a guardian, of a protector, of a proud warrior. Imagine if Superman were suddenly show up in a black cape. Wouldn’t that be slightly incongruous? Diana is a similar kind of character, a champion, a patriot. Her wardrobe should reflect that. While it may be less “real world”, I feel like I would be more on-board with the leggings if they were dark blue and attempted, in some small, subtle way, to call out to Wonder Woman’s former star motif. I’m not talking stars all over – just maybe a belt, or a couple of small stars on the hip or on the buckle of the boot-stirrup things.
A Brief Treatise on Breast Physics
Moving back up, there’s the halter-top. While it’s generally the one design element that is most faithful to Wonder Woman’s traditional design, there are, I think, a few problems with it. As I noted earlier, there seems to be a series of gold cords around the bustline, shoulders and arms that bring to mind nothing so much as the intricate knotwork of Japanese bondage. I’m not going to link it for you, and needless to say it would be NSFW, but do a Google search and tell me I’m wrong. I certainly hope that Lee was attempting to evoke an ancient-Greek woven-leather thong motif with this design element, because otherwise I’d have to question his intentions. Something tells me that it’s likely difficult to throw a punch when you have loops of rope constricting your shoulder and armpits.
At least a halter, low-cut as it is, is something of a concession to reality. In real life, Wonder Woman’s traditional bustier would be extremely bad for her line of work. The probability of an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction would be incredibly high. And that’s not just because it integrates a chestplate of likely rather weighty metal.
Consider, if you will, the female breast. As far as secondary sexual characteristics go, it towers above all others in terms of its power over the opposite sex. More than any other bit of the anatomy, superhero comics’ traditional readership is obsessed with breasts. As far as they are concerned, bigger is most definitely better, and fan-favorite artists definitely listen. As a result, the breasts found on super-women are almost comically enormous. In real life, women who approach that bust size are generally either overweight, porn stars, or nursing babies. None of those demographics are really that likely to be doing backflip kicks.
The truth is, gentlemen, that breasts have a dark side. One that we, as men, rarely consider – if we even know that it exists. Those of you with wives or girlfriends have probably noticed this (and those of you without are just going to have to take my word for it): bras are very important to women. The one that they wear to work is not the same one they wear to the gym or a night out or to bed. The reason is a confluence of anatomy, physics and materials science. A breast is, essentially, a relatively unstructured globe of, well, flesh that is attached at the chest and generally otherwise unsupported. They have weight and volume and even the most firm are fluid and have momentum. This is why, gentlemen, bras exist. It’s not to cover the breast, it’s not to give men something else to have to work around. Bras are, primarily, structural supports, like the struts on suspension bridges. By attaching the weight at multiple points, it helps the load be distributed more evenly and comfortably. In addition, certain bras (sports bras in particular) keep breasts in place by lifting and compressing them, helping them resist the pull of gravity or the momentum caused by movement. Because, you see, left unsupported, weight and momentum would pull on the breast, kind of like a pendulum and that, my friends, causes pain. And the bigger the breasts, the bigger the problem.
To put it another way, imagine running if your testicles weighed five pounds. That’s what I’m getting at here.
Why, you may ask, as you laugh your head off, am I going on and on about breast physics and brazierres? What could this possibly have to do with superhero costume design?

Everything, my friends. Everything. Because 99% of female superhero costume designs are all wrong. Superheroine costumes usually have three approaches when it comes to the upper body. One is the bustier/corset. This design has a number of fairly obvious problems. Yes, there is some support for the breast. But this comes at the cost of mobility and security. The bustier or corset is, by definition, rather binding. It’s not going to allow much in the way of stretching or twisting at the waist, making most fighting maneuvers very difficult, interrupting the swinging momentum of punches and kicks. It also, to a real degree, would restrict movement of the arms and shoulders above chest level – not so much because the superheroine can’t move in that direction, but because that sort of movement is likely to, erm, cause her cups to runneth over. Then, of course, there’s the very real consideration that binding at the waist and chest makes catching her breath after a monumental row next to impossible. Obviously, because this configuration is strapless, having a bra really wouldn’t work.
Then there’s the “strips of fabric” approach, best exemplified by the Phantom Lady. Basically, this involves none of the structural support of a corset with all the potential for an impromptu burlesque show- but in all directions, not just one. Imagine, if you will, trying to roll a bowling ball along a suspended 6″ wide strip of silk and you start to see the problem. Still no bra here, given that it would be a lot like how women sneer when other women wear backless dresses and brazierres. I gather that’s not good at all.
The most common approach to female upper-body wear would, at first blush, seem to be the most modest. The entire upper body is entirely covered in spandex, presumably out of modesty or for protection. And, yet, the artist has taken pains to draw each breast and their contours individually. In other words, the fabric itself is fairly thin. And skin tight. Basically painted on. Which means that, really, it might as well not be there. Again, probably, no support.
Occasionally there’s a variant of this where the artist understands how female clothing works and maybe even has a woman in his life (or is a woman) and you see a chest much like you would on real-life clothing. That is to say, the form of one full covered bust rather than two individually-drawn breasts.
And, really, from that perspective, Wonder Woman’s new shirt runs rings around her old one. It covers her up, it looks realistic, it probably offers some support. But, the reason I went into such detail on comic book breasts is that I have been assured (by the lady in my life) that while it’s certainly good, it’s not perfect.

Instead, rather than a low cut halter, she suggests, a much better alternative would be something with a much higher neckline, allowing for underclothing with full support material over the shoulders and criss-crossing the back that lifts the breasts, pulls them in and compresses them laterally. The idea being that as Diana is running around, jumping across rooftops, doing backflips and kicking people in the face, her chest stays as still as possible, reducing discomfort.
And, really, it would make sense, given that in mythology Amazons would cut off their left breast in order to aim their bows better. We’re not even asking for that. Just that Wonder Woman go and get herself a good sports bra and a shirt capable of covering it.
Still, as far as it goes, from a design perspective, the shirt portion of the costume gets the highest marks.
Accessorize, Accessorize, Accessorize
As for accessories, the tiara is a little awkward looking, but it is in keeping with the original spirit. Though, really, Wonder Woman’s old tiara was thin enough, and something of a classic. This is one of two aspects of the costume that really made me go “wha?”. There was absolutely no good reason to change it. No good reason not to. It’s more of a completely pointless exercise.
The wristbands, though, are a bigger issue. The new wristband/gauntlets are said, by Lee and Straczynski, to evoke ancient Greece, like the front-lacing leather-and-metal bracers warriors would wear into battle. They’re emblazoned with the W, and are really the one part of Wonder Woman’s costume that has anything really resembling a logo. On the other hand, they look clumsy and uncomfortable, hinder wrist movement, and resemble nothing that anyone would wear outside of a Madonna night at the local dance club. In other words – no one uses fingerless gloves anymore. Which is really just another symptom of Lee being stuck in the 90s.
The real shame here is that, as plain as they were, Wonder Woman’s silver wristbands were as iconic to her as her lasso. It isn’t just that they could reflect bullets. It’s that they resemble, in a way, fetters or manacles that, by lacking chains, invoke a female culture that has transcended their state as as prisoners subjugated to men. They are a symbol of a liberated woman who is aware of what women’s lives, at their worst, are like in Man’s World. In the early days, this symbolism was very literal, since it was possible to de-power Diana by binding her bracers together. Yes, they are just steel bracers, but they mean more than that. Think about it – why were they the only metal element of Wonder Woman’s original costume that wasn’t gold? To turn them into just a bit of armor loses something. And doesn’t even make sense from a “blending in” perspective since, these days, it’s not uncommon to see wrist cuffs or a series of bracelets running halfway up the forearm.

Finally, there’s the choker. Really, Jim Lee, a choker? You know who wears chokers? Emo kids who shop at Hot Topic. And maybe not even them. It might be just the Gothic Lolitas. Is Diana a Gothic Lolita?
What Could Have Been

I realize that I have spent the last three-thousand words or so sounding like a catty hipster girl or Tim Gunn. For this I apologize. When I said that the outfit was only somewhat successful, that’s really what I meant. In terms of function, it works very well. But in terms of form and fashion, it’s fairly weak. To explain why it was fairly weak meant, in part, delving into dark and mysterious territory where men often fear to tread. It won’t happen again.
Over and above the modern fashion considerations (where Lee pretty much completely dropped the ball), though, the costume fails on a very basic, very easy to understand level: it is not a costume. It’s not iconic. It does not invoke superheroics. It’s just clothes. It barely qualifies as a uniform.
I, honestly, have never been a fan of the street-clothes-as-superhero-clothes paradigm. In my estimation, the one and only time that has ever worked was during James Robinson’s Starman, and that’s because the character was explicitly a rejection of superhero iconography. Jack Knight’s character arc was about accepting the legacy that had been thrust upon him. When he finally reached a point where he would have been capable, or even proud, to don a costume, he retired. So, there, it worked. And he actually wore street clothes. He showed up in a different outfit every issue. He would look in his closet, pick a nice vintage shirt and pair of slacks, and head out for the day.
Wonder Woman’s costume is not that. Every time she heads out, she will be wearing the same thing. It’s kind of a uniform, but lacks the cohesion of a uniform. It’s kind of a costume, but isn’t iconic. It’s kind of street clothes, but doesn’t have the variety, fashionability or individual expression. It just is. And in this regard, it also fails.

Before I realized that the goddamned jacket was a story element, I saw it mostly as a missed opportunity. Great, I felt, they want to cover her up from head to toe, make her look more fierce, more rough and tumble. If that was the case, rather than have a jacket breaking up the mostly sleek, superheroic lines of the new design, why didn’t they extend the material and design of the top to the shoulders and arms? Or, in order to evoke a warrior, why not extend the bracers further up the arm, and maybe add pieces to the upper arm and shoulder? Perhaps using the bands around the chest and shoulders to secure them? What about keeping a sleek look, losing anything that might break up the silhouette and extending the shirt up the neck, perhaps with the golden eagle chestpiece front and center?
The point I’m trying to make is what is so wrong with having a superhero look like a superhero? Especially in the DC universe, where it’s not just the people who operate in the light wearing tights, it’s everyone, hero, antihero, villain. Everyone is colorful and form fitting. It’s simultaneously one of the most ridiculous and endearing things about the DCU. Diana doesn’t even look like she belongs there anymore. She belongs in one of the Wildstorm universes, maybe. Or hanging with Grant Morrison’s X-Men.

Speaking of which, they went street as well. To “blend in”. And, frankly, they ended up looking equally ridiculous with all their neon and panels and Wolverine walking around in leather pants, no shirt and a jacket like he was attending a Gay Pride march. (I’m not saying this is bad, I’m saying that there are a lot of hairy shirtless men at Pride. I live in San Francisco. I know these things.) And what happened when Joss Whedon and John Cassaday took over the designs? They went right back to the superheroics. Better than ever, in fact, because their designs were revived and renewed to invoke their classic looks, while keeping most superhero elements and being real-world plausible, to boot (if we had colorful crime fighters in the real world that is – they worked insofar as materials and maneuverability).
That would have been the key to updating Wonder Woman’s look. Keep what worked, what was iconic, what was superheroic, and adding an element of real world materials, heft and physics to it.
Granted, this is not something that every artist would have been able to pull off. Certainly Jim Lee wouldn’t have been able to.

In my estimation, there are currently only a handful of artists working in superhero comics today that have the drawing chops (which Lee does have), design sensibility (which he doesn’t) and attention to real-world detail (eh, maybe in the 90s) to pull this sort of task off. John Cassaday would be one. He’d be at the top of my list on the strength of his X-Men work alone. But then you look at his design work on Planetary and you realize that this is a man who knows superheros, knows how they look and what makes them tick, and how to communicate that with mass and volume.

Then there’s Alex Ross. Alex Ross has a massive ego, and an even bigger chip on his shoulder, but he has a nearly flawless sense of superhero design and was, arguably, the first artist to make a four-color person in tights look like they could exist in the real world. You need only look at his forward-thinking costumes in Earth-X and especially Kingdom Come to see that if you want to mess with an icon, Alex Ross is a the guy to be doing the messing for you.

Finally, among my three choices, is a bit of an underdog pair. They’re separate artists with separate strengths, but for my money the dynamic duo of Corey Walker and Ryan Ottley’s work on the invincible corner of the Image universe has resulted in superhero designs that are head and shoulders above everything else at Image. They were tasked with creating a universe of superheroes and supervillains that was simultaneously familiar and completely new in order to tell the story, essentially, of what if Superman was sent to Earth for the wrong reasons and had a kid while he was here. I think that the best thing that I can say about their work is that their characters look like they’ve been around for decades, and they are just as colorful as any characters at Marvel or DC, and their costumes are just as expressive of who they are and what they do. Granted, they really haven’t worked on re-designing any of the big boys, but check out Corey Walker’s Supergirl redesigns on Project Rooftop. Actually, while you’re at it, check out the whole blog. These folks know a thing or three about superhero design.
The Wrap Up
Ultimately, it’s really too early to say whether fans are going to cotton to this new Wonder Woman. Sure, we generally don’t like her look now, but, fortunately, the “street clothes” approach could come with some flexibility for artist interpretation. With any luck, an interior artist will come along and subtly address many of our complaints. And, even no one does, it’s not really about the clothes, is it? It’s about the story. And the story that lead Diana Prince down this particular sartorial path could be an interesting one – it’s really too early to tell. Additionally, something to consider is that the story is about her investigation of the origins of this new timeline, and her attempts to protect herself. Logically, her ultimate victory would be the restoration of Themiscyra, the Amazon people, and her rightful place as an iconic member of DC’s Big Three. So don’t expect the new look to stick around for too long, regardless of fan reaction.
Frankly, I just wish that it was less of a missed opportunity.
-Rick