When I was little I wanted to be Wonder Woman when I grew up. I was completely engrossed in the TV Series featuring Lynda Carter. She embodied everything I thought a woman should be: beautiful and sexy while strong and powerful. It was the 70’s and the feminist movement was in full swing. To my four year old eyes, she was the perfect blend of Gloria Steinem and Farrah Fawcett (whom I also wanted to be- but we’ll save that obsession for another day).
I had a Wonder Woman bathing suit and even, the creme de la creme, Wonder Woman Underoos! In my humble opinion, the greatest invention of the 1970’s was the Underoo. You could be a regular kid on the outside and be hiding a hulking super hero right under your clothes. But honestly, how many of us ever kept that shit under wraps? Underoos were meant to be worn and shown off in inappropriate places like riding your bike around the neighborhood, in a public park or at the grocery store.
Now, if you’ve never had the pleasure of watching the Lynda Carter Wonder Woman series, then your life is certainly not complete. You may remember that boring old Clark Kent had to duck into a phone booth and change into his Superman costume. I mean really, he’s the man of steel and he had to go “change” in a phone booth- gimme a break. He sounds like a big old pansy boy in my opinion. Anyway, good old Wonder Woman was way cooler than that. All she had to do was hold her arms out straight, airplane style, and spin. Then her everyday persona would magically change into the ultimate sexy crime fighting superhero, Wonder Woman.
I had no greater dream than to be able to spin my arms around and transform into this amazing being. But, being a mere mortal, I lacked this ability. So I did the next best thing. I’d get all suited up in my bathing suit or Underoos and wrap a towel around myself. Then I would spin as fast as I could yelling, “Wonder Woman” and let the towel go flying off and “Poof!” I was Wonder Woman! Fending off bullets with my gold wrist bands and flying my invisible airplane. I was bad ass.
So when Halloween rolled around, of course I would be no one other than the queen of the Justice League. I made sure everyone knew it and insisted that my mom get me the coolest Wonder Woman outfit around. We were having an actual PARADE at nursery school and I saw this as my chance at stardom! Of course, the parade was just us wearing our costumes and walking around in a circle while the played Monster Mash- but hey, it was a parade nonetheless.
So, my mom did what every mother who had suddenly been forced into the workforce by the feminist movement did, she went to the drugstore and bought me a nice plastic costume, complete with suffocating mask. These costumes were quite common place in 1978. It was made from a nice sheet of plastic, similar to a Twister board, that you would slip on right over your regular clothes. It usually was only printed on one side, so the other side was completely white. Apparently, you were only supposed to show your front on all Hallow’s eve.
Well the big day rolled around and I proudly marched into nursery school with the cool smell of freshly made plastic pressed against my face ready to wow the socks off everyone in the room. And then it happened. My whole world came crashing down. There was another fucking Wonder Woman in the parade!!! And no, her costume did not come from the drug store. Her mom actually took the time to sew an exact replica of Lynda Carter’s amazing costume. That BITCH!! How dare she steal my thunder?? I was so pissed. But, I hid my tears behind the smiling plastic Lynda Carter mask and marched around the circle, ate my cookies and juice and sucked it up.
By the way, who the hell ever thought juice and cookies would make a good combination? Its really quite terrible. And they’re still doing it in day-cares and preschools across this great nation to this day. But, I digress.