Continuing our “Worst Moments in the History of Avenger Costumes” in honor of the movie, we arrive at that beloved icon of national pride, Captain America, at that unfortunate moment in history that he had some disease whose symptoms included massively impaired fashion sense and having his nose eaten off:

I’m glad the armor lets Cap move, so hopefully he can haul his star-spangled butt to the nearest Gap. And I think if I had to choose between dying and being seen in this costume, I’d have a hard time choosing.

My favorite part of this design has to be the fact that they armored the floppy boot tops. That’s like having a metal cape where they build in the folds — it just makes no sense.

I would like to see him stab-kick someone with the pointy metal tips on those suckers though. He needs something EXTREME to go with the bionic unhinged jaw-scream he’s sporting.

Keeping with Dan’s suggestion that we take a look at the worst-dressed moments in this history of the Avengers in the movie, I bring you Thor, God of the G-String!

First, let this serve as a warning to all you budding artists out there that you should never base your drawings on your action figures.

Second, if you can tear your eyes away from that Ken-like monstrosity of a crotch and the giant balloon legs, think about how this outfit works. A normal plunging neckline (for instance, like Luke Cage’s) covers all but the middle of your chest because presumably you want lots of protection from the elements and enemy bullets while still letting the chicks gaze with wonder at your pecs.

To that, Thor says “Nay nay”! Because apparently Thor heard about these things called “G-Strings” and wanted to try them out, only to be thwarted by his articulated nether regions. So he went all atomic wedgie and yanked that sucker over his head.

It’s like a negative-space shirt, covering what ought to be open and opening what ought to be covered. I bet that’s what the giant floating heads behind him are screaming so violently about. “THOR! I CAN SEE YOUR NIPPLES! AND WHY IS YOUR CROTCH THAT? SERIOUSLY BROTHER, YOU SHOULD SEE SOMEONE. LIKE, NOW. AND WHERE IS MY BODY?! I CAN’T STOP SCREAMING, YAAAAAAH!”

Frequent contributor Dan suggested that we take a look over the next few weeks at some of the worst moments in Avengers fashion history in honor of the blockbuster movie release. I thought it was a great idea, and where better to begin than the Purple Poltroon, leader of the Worst Dressed Team In Forever (aka the West Coast Avengers), Clint Barton, the one and only Hawkeye!

First, props to the Marvel film department, who in their infinite wisdom dressed Hawkeye this way for the film:

Snazzy, snug, modern, functional. All the things the actual comics costume is not:

Comic book Hawkeye, it’s bad enough you run around in purple and blue. It’s bad enough you have giant floppy boots and suspenders. It’s bad enough you wear a mask so ridiculous there’s no way you could see around it, hawk eyes or not. And it’s bad enough that you have emblazoned your initials on your hat in case you forget it in the cloak room during kindergarten, because Captain America does that too and no one thinks less of him for it.

But, dude, seriously — riding around on a hover-Vespa is not doing your “street cred” any good.

Shockingly, however, this is not the worst Hawkeye has ever looked. Oh my, no. That honor goes to this lovely ensemble, radiant in powder blue:

Allow me to fill you in, Clint — what you want is some pants. Because when you’re worried about not being intimidating enough, the first thing you want to do is to trade in your hover Vespa for an Olivia Newton-John inspired sweatband. And the second to last thing is to ditch your britches in favor of running around in a mini-skirt.

Clint Barton, you’ve come a long way, baby.

(All images and characters © Marvel Entertainment.)

Our latest excrescence from the flatulent bowels of the 1990s comes courtesy of mega-publisher DC Comics, featuring a redesign of the immortal warrior for Order, Doctor Fate. He normally looks like this:

But in their infinite wisdom, DC made him look like this instead:

The Doctor Fate helmet is one of the coolest bits of headgear in any comics universe, and yet DC chucked it over the side so they could be more EXTREME. I mean come on, look at the scarring on that face! And the grimace, man, the GRIMACE! You can’t see any of that behind a helmet, my man. Argue with THAT.

I love that he’s only armored on his right shoulder. Because if there’s one vital man-bit you want protected behind a metal shell, it’s your shoulder. By all means leave your junk exposed in the tightest fitting spandex you can find, because come on, clearly those slavering hell-beasts would never be so vile as to kick a Fate in his jewels.

Normally belts are worn to hold up pants, but since the new EXTREME Fate (no longer a doctor, apparently, because doctors are square amirite?!) doesn’t wear pants (because pants are for squares amirite?!), where better to put pouches than on a belt holding up … his nipples? I don’t know, the point here is that pouches are awesome and even when there’s nothing for a belt to hold up, they can hold up pouches, and that’s a good reason to wear a belt on your boobs.

The old Doctor Fate used magic, but that’s not bloody enough so we have to give him a sword because Wolverine has knives and swords are longer than knives so SWORD! Sadly, he is displaying the classic ineptitude of a magic-user when faced with a weapon, and he’s chosen to scabbard it upside down. You’d think after the first few steps when the damn thing kept falling out that he’d flip it over, but that’s not extreme enough.

Also extreme? Mullets. FATE mullets.

You thought the slavering hell beasts were howling in fear, didn’t you? Look again, my friend, because I’m pretty sure they’re laughing at the spandex-clad, shoulder-armored, mullet-wielding sword-dropping scar-faced pansy who can’t help but grimace in embarrassment at how cruel the fashion fates have been.

(All images and characters © DC Comics. Much to their shame.)

Crazy cross-genre combinations are the norm in today’s comics world, with zombie super-heroes and dinosaur nazis and “what if super villains ran the world” sorts of high concepts. High being the operative word.

Have you ever wondered, however, why no one has ever done a Native American Cowboy Disco Rebel book before? I know I have! Well thanks to ReaderKate, we learn the answer: Because it’s already been done before! Ladies and gentlemen, meet the sartorially challenged genre-busting fashion spectacle that is … HAWK, Son of Tomahawk!

There’s so much to love here, but I think ReaderKate summed it up best in her email to me:

The stories look quite interesting, but oh, that costume! It says not “Half-Indian Cowboy with a Sense of Justice,” but “Wealthy Disco Douchebag, circa 1979.” All it needs is designer shades and a silver coke spoon necklace.

From the James Dean pompadour to the crazy Luke Cage plunging neckline to the super hip bell bottoms (with emergency width-expanding extension flaps for those times when you need maximum wingspan!) and the ready-for-disco handbag, this guy looks like the bastard love child of Dazzler and Angar the Screamer. He’s a hero who can ride off with a posse by day and dance all night, just how they grew them out West.

I even love his name. “Hawk, Son of Tomahawk” has a nice sort of symmetry to it. I can’t wait to read about “Toma, daughter of Tomahawk”, “Omaha, city of Tomahawk”, “Awk, Parrot of Tomahawk”, and “Tom, Co-Worker of Tomahawk Who Had to Legally Change His Name From Bob to Tom or Die at the Keen Edge of the Aforementioned Tomahawk’s Tomahawk, which is named Tomahawk.” I’m pretty sure this is where George Foreman got his child-naming regimen.

I have to admit, I didn’t think it would be possible to combine this particular set of genres, nor did I think you could come up with a fringed Native American get-up that would look more ridiculous than that sported by the Village People. And yet, that’s exactly what DC did, and several decades before it got trendy.

Well played, DC Comics of the early 1970s. Well played indeed.

(Image and character © DC Comics.)

Being a fashion rebel sometimes is a good thing. But not in the case of Dark Horse Comics’ 1991 character “Rebel”:

That’s right, dudes, for the cost of just a little flattery, this black-leotard-wearing, mullet-clad, ski-goggle-sporting flamer of love can be yours!

I can’t decide if my favorite part of his look is the hair, the abstract white chest pattern, or the skull and cross bones over the stylized heart. Because why have a piratical skull and crossbones when you can have love and crossbones?! I’m trying to imagine a less scary insignia without resorting to bunnies or puppies, but I’m coming up blank.

I particularly love that the logo is repeated on his shins. I guess when you’ve got a good thing you’ve got to work it.

Props also to the writer of that second panel, because that is some crunchy dialog right there, folks. Entirely appropriate given his ridiculous getup, of course, but still, the next time some old fart tells you “They don’t write ‘em like they used to!”, feel free to point to this panel as a reason why.

(Image ©1991, Dark Horse Comics, Inc.)

Today I am outsourcing “Bad Super Costume Wednesday” to our friends at UGO. Specifically, for this guy:

K. Thor Jensen’s writeup pretty much says it all:

Adam X The X-Treme may be the most 90s superhero ever. His name even has “Extreme” in it, for God’s sake. Check it off the list: backwards baseball cap? Goatee? Mullet? Mullet and what I guess are supposed to be dreadlocks but look more like pigtails? Spikes and sharp things everywhere? This guy probably got his powers from taking a bath in radioactive Mountain Dew.

Aside from pouches and the singular achievement of killing off comics for a decade, I think the greatest Image legacy is making pigtails on super-heroes normal. That’s just so sweet.

An alert reader sent me Nightwing’s classic costume for our “Bad Costume Wednesday”:

But here’s the thing — I’m not so sure this is a bad costume. I mean, you can make fun of his long, flowing, romance-cover raven locks if you want, I suppose, but remember that this was an era in which Superman had a mullet. So you kind of can’t totally blame the guy.

The big yellow glove wedges and giant glowing chest wing are perhaps not ideal for a night-stalker, but I don’t think they look bad.

I kind of dig the stylized Bat symbol on the belt, I think it helps establish him as his own person without totally losing his history.

About the only thing I am not down with is the belt itself, which always bugs me when it’s not actually holding up anything. But that’s a pretty minor point.

Still, this particular alert reader has good taste and sound judgement, so I’m willing to concede I might be wrong on this. What do you think, was this a good or a bad super hero costume?

This is Benjamin Grimm, also known as the ever-lovin’ Thing, as he was originally envisioned by the great Jack Kirby and Stan Lee:

He’s a man whose body has been unwillingly transformed into a hulking, rocky, inhuman form. His soul aches to be normal again, even while the world runs in fear from his tortured visage.

This is the common pineapple, also known as a tasty fruit snack:

Now, I have nothing against tasty fruit, and I have in fact been known to indulge myself in the tart goodness the beloved pineapple brings to the palette on more than one occasion. I also am a fan of The Thing, who brings some great pathos and tragedy to the First Family of Fantasticness.

However, these two worlds should not meet. I mean, Ben Grimm can eat all the pineapple he wants, he just shouldn’t become one. Unfortunately, at some point Marvel missed that memo:

Oh, I know, he’s supposed to be spiky and extreme, because if Image Comics taught us anything, they taught us that pointy is cool. But it doesn’t come off as savage or wicked or awesome. It comes off like pineapple. And no one fears pineapples. Though maybe that’s what Ben wanted, maybe now he can open his massive arms and cry “Hug me, I’m fruity!” and the people will love him at last!

If so, I fear he’s in for yet more disappointment.

Look, if you’re going to continue the cosmic ray-induced metamorphosis of Mr. Grimm, turn him into an orange. He’s already that color, after all, so it’s not that much of a stretch. But a pineapple? Please.

Did you know that Rob Liefeld took a crack at redesigning the costume for Captain America rip-off “The Fighting American”? And it’s so blatant and awful, I thought it was Cap when I wrote this article? Well, it’s true. You might want to put on some sunglasses with anti-Suck-Glare coating before looking at this, I warn you:

Besides looking like he’s been kicked in the nuts with the way the pants lines are bunching up (a Liefeld staple), and the fact that his head has apparently been ripped off then repositioned on top of a wombat neck (I don’t even know what that means but I can’t bear to delete it now that it’s all written down), the actual costume design itself is a failure for me.

I’ll start with the helmet and the odd white bird motif. I suppose that’s supposed to be an eagle, though it’s hard to tell. On the one hand, I’m glad he did away with the little wings, which I never particularly cared for, but I don’t think spreading it all around his face like a little kid immediately after diving into a butter-slathered cob of corn was the solution.

Moving onto the chest, we again have the bird (eagle?) head on top of the star, which is utterly superfluous. The idea of the white star melding into flag stripes is an interesting one, but so poorly executed we have to include black outlines to differentiate the two.

In general the proportions of white to blue to red in the upper torso feel out of balance to me. But, I suppose if you’re going to rip off Wonder Woman’s design, that’s the kind of thing you have to live with:

Still don’t believe me? Check out this alternate Liefeld drawing of Cap, complete with Wonder Boobs:

In this one, not only does he have Wonder Woman’s breasts, he’s got her logo stamped on his forehead. But come on, they’re from two different companies, it’s not like anyone would notice!

Back to this redesign, though. I can’t let it go without commenting on the pouch attached to the shield straps. I know we’ve all seen Liefeld put pouches on belts, thighs, ankles, bicepts, wrists, and bandoliers, but this one takes the cake. I can’t wait to see what happens when Cap whips his shield off of his back to fling at the Red Skull, only to have it wobble furiously out of line due to the multiple rolls of Lifesavers he’s packing in the attached man purse.

I’m glad that in the meantime we’ve had actual professionals design Cap’s costume for the movies. It’s good to see the difference between good design like this:

And the unholy abomination Liefeld wanted to foist on the world.