Concerning the Fact that I Will Never Be a Super Hero

It's a tragic thing when reality hits you in the jaw during a perfectly good day at the movies.  Yesterday I was hit with my very own reality haymaker when I was exiting Ghost Protocol and walked past the poster for the next Underworld movie.  (First of all, sweet heavens, how many of these are there?  I'm convinced this is Underworld 12: This Time It's Personal...but I digress.)  The poster features the lovely and talented Kate Beckinsale in an appropriately gothic corset.

That's when it hit me how wonderfully impractical it would be to fight in a leather corset.  Besides being dreadfully hot, the boning (haha, boning) would make it impossible to bend properly in any fashion and, at least for me, dodging blows from enemy combatants of any variety will involve me bending at the waist a little bit.

Who cares about chafing?  I look bloody marvelous.

I know you'll have to take my word for it, but I'm not really a feminist and this isn't an argument that female superheroes are over sexualized.  (I happen to be rather pleased with the amount of sexualizing done of male superheroes so that would make me a bit of a hypocrite.)  Let's face it, a movie with a group of sensibly dressed super heroines would be even too boring for me to watch.  When I picture myself as a super bad ass heroine, kicking demons in the face and showering my enemies with bullets, I too am improbably dressed in stiletto boots, fishnets stockings and a trench coat. (Because you don't count as a slut if you're fighting crime dangit!) That's where the problem comes in.  The person writing these words doesn't wear high heels.  (That isn't totally true, I have a pair that I wear when I need to look like I'm both employed and a grown up...luckily I don't need to look that way often.) I hardly wear real shoes.  I've worn slippers to work for the last month and a half and no one has said a word to me.  I assume they're just glad I'm not wearing flip flops again because they're sick of seeing my feet.  So, the idea of me walking upright in stiletto's is laughable enough and doing high flying kicks and taking hits to the face seems unlikely no matter how many Tae Bo classes I've taken.

Then we get to the costume.  Have you ever been to an aerobics class?  I did go like twice about 10 years ago so I consider myself an expert.  Sadly, none of us decided to wear our corsets and hot pants to class.  Instead we wore only the least flattering of sweat pants and, in my case, a rather lumpy looking t-shirt.  (Back off fellahs, I'm not single...) Since Yoga became a thing people have decided to wear slightly less horrible work out clothes, but that doesn't negate the fact that we aren't wearing leather and, heaven forbid, latex.  I am picturing myself running around town smelling vaguely of balloons (as that is what I imagine latex wear smells like) and sounding like someone wearing rubber pants.  I'm already about the least scary person you could meet in an ally, and we want to add the insult of a subtle squeaking sound when I walk?  Sounds brilliant.

Now, if they ever make a movie about a super hero in blue sweat pants and a pink t-shirt taking down crime with their flying flip-flops of fury, count me in.  Also I'd like a hat and a wise cracking sidekick with a thick accent of some kind.  Stan Lee can feel free to call me anytime, we can make this happen.

Yours Always,
Mrs. Geek