Sexism, Impracticality, and the Hopeful Future of Costuming

Fundamentally superhero costumes are vital for the industry because they establish iconography and create the brand. They are used not only to create a recognisable identity for a character, but also often function as a disguise to shield an everyday persona. Costumes also serve the purpose of showcasing character development. For example, the costume is revealed to signal when a character has finally reached the point of either accepting their role as a superhero, or are able to use their powers fully. Finally, the costume is also often considered the defining trait of the superhero; that personality, appearance and even powers may alter with iterations, but the costume tends to remain a stable aspect. The costume, that becomes almost a uniform, cannot be separated from that particular superhero as it has become their identity beyond any other factor. Some have even argued that the costume is so encoded as part of the persona of the hero that not only is his/her identity no longer complete without it, but if another dons the outfit that superhero persona can be usurped. While I may not fully agree with this sentiment with the series of reboots and adaptions the comic book industry is undergoing, I do understand why the very discussion, let alone implementation, of changing a superhero’s costume can become difficult for many people. However, I believe, and argue here, that tradition is not enough to justify the continuation of sexist and impractical choices when change could only lead to better art, better story, and a greater engagement by a wider audience.

Hypersexualisation and attracting the male gaze

The first issue often raised in relation the inherent sexism of female costuming is often connected more to the representations in television and film, and relates to the cinematic treatment of the introduction to the female character. She may be strong, literally powerful, acted by an empowered actress and even beating the Bechdel test. Yet, the first introduction to her is the camera panning up and down her body, with the slow chest-height-linger that manages to capture all the tight fitting and revealing components of the costume. This is considered catering to the male (heterosexual) gaze, a term coined in 1973 by Laura Mulvey, and is credited to the male filmmaker and the particular target audience of most film genres. Part of what has become an issue, other than the desire by most women not to be treated as a sexualised object, is the rise of female audience members for both comics and visual representations of superheros. Thus, when a character is built primarily on the basis of appearance and sex appeal there is little for a modern female audience to emphasise and connect with. At the heart of this issue has become women’s (and many men’s) desire to see characters represented in a rounded manner, which see character development and a multifaceted, relatable human character.

Furthermore, research is finding that the influence of superheroes for women is not always a positive one. Even though women play a variety of roles in the superhero genre, from helpless to powerful, they all tend to be hypersexualised with perfect, voluptuous figures and sexy, revealing attire. All factors that can impact beliefs on gender roles, body esteem and self-objectification. Even when female superheroes are featured, which let’s face it is not as common as male superheroes, and attempt to elevate egalitarian gender beliefs this is too often undermined by the sexualised nature of their costuming. A study conducted by Hillary Pennell and Elizabeth Behm-Morawitz found that when showing a montage from Spider-Man women viewers reported less egalitarian gender beliefs. But worse, when viewing a female superhero montage were not empowered, and although it did not lower their egalitarian views, it did not increase them either. As such Pennell and Behm-Morawitz present that the sexualisation of the female superheroes serves to reinforce rather than challenge stereotypical gender beliefs, which overshadows any benefit derived from having a strong, capable female character.

It is also worth commenting on the sexualisation of superheros in both genders. The franchise of Batman is perhaps the best example of this. The costuming of Batgirl and Catwomen are always overtly sexualised, including breast-cup armour with nipples for Alicia Silverstone’s outfit. However, in the film in which that costume appeared, Batman & Robin, both Batman and Robin also wore costumes with nipples. Furthermore throughout that franchise the size of the groin cup for the males has continuously increased, as if to help imply that “yes this Batman is the most manly, just look down!” This is just as concerning a sexist issue. Why is it that for a man to be a superhero it must be about physical musculature and for a woman it must be sexual appeal? How have we still not progressed beyond such base stereotypes?

There is also often justifications that are offered in defence of particular costuming choices. For instance Power Girl is not showing her breasts, but a lack of an emblem. Or that Starfire comes from a culture without nudity taboos. However, there are ways to represent these important background threads than through sexualising the character. Starfire is a great example, for a culture with no nudity taboos why would tight fitted clothing be appealing? Why not loose fitting clothing? It makes sense she would want to wear less clothing, but why would a series of uncomfortable straps be the choice? It is also necessary to ask what would fighters from her culture wear, and why then does she not appear as they do? Then we have Wonder Girl on a Teen Titans’ cover that has furthered the debate. It can be suggested that by placing a teenage superhero falling out of a tube top on a cover it delivers a particular message, which is this book is not for women, it is a comic where women are to be gawked at.

Focusing in on the Teen Titans #1 cover from 2014 is an interesting case study to explore and one that writer Janelle Asselin dissects in detail. The first point she raises is perhaps the most disturbing, which is that any cover, let alone a first issue cover, is something that can take up to a year with input from sales, marketing and editing, and yet this is the cover they selected. It is a prime example, Asselin argues, of when comic book corporations make basic mistakes in relation to appealing to new target audiences. A good cover should allude to the story, draw in the reader, and offer a clear first impression to capture the scope and message of the book. Which is why the overly sexualised image of Wonder Girl is so dramatic, as opposed to other sexualised female heroes, in relation to the message of this cover. Teen Titans actually has more than half of its self-professed fans being female, aged in the late teens to early adult category, this is the target audience being deliberately overlooked. Keeping in mind that the visual representation on the cover is not the Wonder Girl present in earlier comics or in the animated television show. More disturbingly is it is a franchise known for having launched Teen Titans Go! that has an even younger audience. Yet this cover is clearly aimed at the typical DC demographic of males 18-39. As Asselin points out, even basic market research should have told DC that this is not the appropriate, or appealing, cover for the target audience of that title. Although Asselin simply pointed out what anyone with a vague understanding of Teen Titans, comics and basic commerce could have figured out, the splash back on her and other women in the comic industry was huge and negative. With death threats, insults and an outpouring of misogyny that had the CBR forum shut down, the article only highlighted that underlying a reasonable discussion (exactly what I am engaging in here) on female representation is more than necessary, it is vital, because it should never have escalated to the level of death threats! If the result of a reasoned discussion is an explosion of abuse and absurdity, then this is a good gauge that change is needed as those should not be the dominant voices in what is rapidly becoming a mainstream cultural artefact. The best arguments coming out in defence of changes to female costumes is the acknowledgement that the medium was originally designed for anyone, and there is now occurring a shift to returning to a broader appeal of more than one narrow demographic. I think B Clay Moore said it best, that if you decide you don’t want to read a comic book because it offers dignity as a consideration for female characters then “I doubt anyone will mourn your absence.”

Part of why there appears to be more anger leveled against the costuming of female superheroes in film and television is the larger audience. But mostly it is because of the expectation by viewers that the new adaption will take advantage of the opportunity to change representations. This does not mean that it is of course easy to handle an adaption, after all the filmmakers are taking often iconic, long-standing representations and changing them for a new genre. However, disappointingly what has tended to occur with female character costuming in film is that the only improvement that occurs is when a comic version actually cannot physically be reproduced in real life and make it through the rating systems.

One counter-argument commonly made relates to the issue of what is conventionally called slut-shaming. The idea that by criticising the expressive costuming of characters that this correlates to a criticism of women who dress in tight-fitting or revealing clothing in real life. The choice to do this and label it as empowering is another debate altogether. Regardless, this argument lacks validity when we are discussing superheros that do not have an equivalent in the real world. Their clothing is a costume. Even more than this, is my next argument point, it is not only costuming as a disguise, but it is costume for combat, and any comparison to how real women involved in real-world combat further iterates that the debate is not about clothing, but a costume.

Impractical combat wear

One of the key complaints leveled against impractical combat wear is that it actually draws a viewer out of the world. It means a character has become a caricature and unless the film has also morphed into a spoof then this ruins the verisimilitude of the entire experience. It is difficult, especially for a modern audience, not to ask: how can she run in 6-inch heels? How, when she swung her arm, did her breasts not fall out of that cut out? When she stepped why did the high-cut swimmers not ride up her butt? How did she bend in the skin tight leather that anyone knows has no flex? How did that zip, placed just on her bust line not come down? Pretty much all of these questions relate to movement. If they were simply pin-up girls, then there is no debate, their role is to look sexually appealing. Fine, there is a legitimate market for that. However, a female superhero needs to fight, which means obviously she needs to move.

At times arguments can be made for less clothing than more in combat, in fact there is a great history of combat being conducted in less clothing to ensure that a combatant cannot use that to gain advantage. However, this is also undermined by the presence of heroes such as Jessica Jones, who is able to fight in jeans and a t-shirt, which in many ways provides better protection and movement than a leotard. I’m sure receiving a wedgy mid-battle is not conductive to one’s concentration. Jones’ lack of armour actual presents an interesting persona to the viewer, as it offers a perception of a character appearing both flawed and heroic simultaneously. It also suggests that a character can be complex even without living a double life. This actually taps in to a larger cultural idea that for many women the clothing they wear every day is already a form of armour – a protective façade that keeps them from being vulnerable. Another converse discussion has been the costuming of Harley Quinn in Suicide Squad. She appears in tiny shorts, fish nets and stiletto boots, all the markings of a pin-up costume. Yet, she is also an abused woman suffering Stockholm syndrome with significant psychological issues, making her actual costuming a supportive criticism of why such sexualised costuming is a negative.

A positive version of the less is better argument has been around Wonder Woman, whose costuming is modelled from traditional Greek and ancient Roman armour, which did allow for less coverage, partly due to climate, but also to allow a greater range of movement. A fact that is demonstrated well by the way Wonder Woman and the Amazons fight. However, this became less inspiring when the costuming moved from the Amazons’ authentic apparel in Wonder Women, interestingly designed by a woman Lindy Hemming, to the return to sexist impracticality in Justice League when male designer Michael Wilkinson took the reins. Another interesting component of many of the new costume designs on television is the removal of the spandex body suit and the replacement of the more modular suits with straps and clasps. This actually suggests more effectively that the items being worn are a form of armour, that they serve a purpose and as such are actually put on and taken off like real world armour.

Another set of lauded changes have been in that of Batgirl and Spider Woman, both of which have ditched the spandex and gotten practical. What they are offering is not only more practical, but also more accessible to fans. A textural look in comics is actually quite aesthetically interesting, but also easier to translate into the real world. For instance, I would argue part of the popularity of television shows such as Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Jessica Jones is that a viewer can easily dress like their hero and engage in day-to-day life. What could be more empowering than as a woman being able to look at yourself in the mirror and say: “today I am a superhero.”

Looking to the future

DC has perhaps had a worse run of this than other brands simply because of the controversy always expected as part of re-branding. The best example of positive forward change was in the introduction of the new costuming of Power Girl. However, rather than being met with applause this was largely decried as “ruining” comics. Unsurprisingly, as discussed before, the fan base is over 90% males in the 18-40 bracket, and they were the ones complaining about the change. However, it is only the costume with the lack of the “boob window” that they are complaining about. The characterisation, and the character’s own stance has not changed. Power Girl is actually one of DC’s most independent and empowered women, with scenes present even in early issues, who actively demanded respect and equality from her male counterparts. Yet, that is not how she is largely considered or perceived by her readership, instead the focus returned always to her physical sexuality and costuming, which continuously undermining her power. Similar to other superheroes, Power Girl experienced a range of different costuming, but always was returned to the most sexualised form eventually.

What future then does the costuming of female superheros have? Many would argue that the representations in Wonder Woman were the best: providing a costume with historical authenticity, practicality, ability of movement, and retained the original iconography important to a superhero’s costume. A key factor in this is the use of one important question: what is essential to the character? When too often the question seems to be: is this sexy enough? Another great example of where the traditional costumes is being challenged is in the changes undertaken to both Ms. Marvel and Captain Marvel. Firstly, in Ms. Marvel when Kamala Khan first states to Captain Marvel that she wants to be her, but “[e]xcept I would wear the classic, politically incorrect costume and kick butt in giant wedge heels.” However, when she turns into that version she can’t walk in the heels and the outfit delivers “epic wedgies.” Khan then moves to her chosen costume, which is basically a short dress over tights, finding it infinitely more practical and also better representational of what teenager girls would choose to wear. It does not undermine her femininity, a complaint often leveled against women dressing in a less sexualised manner, and it is also “cool” in a contemporary manner that will appeal to a reader. The transition of Carol Danvers from the overly sexualised swimsuit of Ms. Marvel into the combat ready Captain Marvel is one of the best representations of female costume adaptions.

Also new creation of Batgirl thanks to the new creative team, resulted in a mass of fan-art and enthusiasm. The costume spoke of the character, her style and place in life that made her less a cast-off of Batman, and rather a young woman with her own identity. A great costume is meant to inspire stories beyond the story already being told. It helps the audience know what type of story to expect, and I think we are all a little tired of the expectation being sexual appeal only. The new move seems to be making costumes that are character-first designs rather than a female-first designs, which at its heart is what we are all wanting to see.

What do you think? .