If you’re a reader of comic books (sorry, “graphic novels”), a player of video games, or a watcher of movies, you’ve no doubt noticed that the female superheroes always seem to have hardly any clothes on, and what little they do wear is skintight and usually made of leather. Their hair is generally about four feet long and salon styled with some sort of headbands or ribbons that are more adornments than tie-backs, and their boots have heels in excess of six inches. This is all well and good if you’re a drooling fan watching the female superhero, but what if you ARE the female superhero?
You would have to hope there was never anything on a high shelf that you needed, because your skintight uniform would make it impossible to raise your arms above your head.
You’d have to cart around an extra large purse with your sneakers and sports bra in it, just in case any criminals tried to get away, otherwise you’d end up with two sprained ankles and a bad concussion from your huge, wildly jiggling boobs hitting you in the face.
You’d be limited to about two months out of the year for superheroing unless you lived in the tropics, because wearing a string bikini outside in a New York City winter will give you frostbitten nipples no matter how vigorously you’re working out.
You’d have to avoid any rooms containing conveyor belts, engines, garbage disposals, large clocks, or any machinery with rotating parts for fear of your improbably long hairdo getting caught in the works and ripping your whole scalp off.
You would have to approach criminals from the front and hope the sight of your rather arresting costume will freeze them in place so you can nab them, because with all that leather creaking and groaning, you’d only be able to sneak on the deaf representatives of the feloniusly inclined.
You would have to coat the inside of your uniform torso with double sided tape to reduce the chances of the ladies springing free in the middle of a punch-up.
You would have to keep a hospital-worthy collection of gauze pads and antibacterial cream in your super-purse to treat your super rug burns in case you had to slide under a truck, brush against a brick wall, or touch anyone who hadn’t shaved yet that day.
On the other hand, though, if you ever had to go after a straight female or a gay male criminal, they would be easy to apprehend on account of they would fall over laughing the instant they caught sight of your ridiculously impractical outfit.