In his evocative essay, "Secret Skin: An Essay in Unitard Theory" in Superheroes: Fashion and Fantasy, Michael Chabon writes: "Superheroism is a kind of transvestism; our superdrag serves at once to obscure the exterior self that no longer defines us while betraying, with half-unconscious panache, the truth of the story we carry in our hearts, the story of our transformation, of our story's recommencement, of our rebirth into the world of adventure, of the story itself."

Judging from this book, that quotation could extend past superheroes to encompass the change in the way that popular culture perceives comics. Not only have comics become respectable to the literary establishment, not only have they become ripe for summer blockbuster franchises, they've become … cooler. Hip, popular, pretty people profess to like them. As such, sometimes it's easy to make the mistake that, because comics are in, comics fans are in. When I read Chabon's words, I think of comics fandom as Stephen King's Carrie, gratefully overjoyed to find out that she's the prom queen. Of course, the pretty people are poised with their bucket of pig's blood …

A book weighing in at three pounds with obscenely high production value (insert your own supermodel joke here) Superheroes: Fashion and Fantasy has metal covers resembling a lunchbox, plastic sheets for paper, a $50 price tag and 285 color illustrations. The crème de la crème of designers are featured — Armani, Versace, Gaultier, etc. — in this companion to an exhibit being held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which was launched with The Costume Institute's "party of the year," a celebrity-studded gala benefit. (The New York Times, the Metropolitan Museum of Art's press release, and Heidi MacDonald do not seem to mention what or whom the benefit is for. But I guess celebs are like superheroes in that it doesn't matter who they're saving as long as they look good doing it.)[1]

Superheroes: Fashion and Fantasy, sponsored by Armani and Condé Nast, takes care to let us know, via Andrew Bolton, who wrote the introductory chapter essays and Preface for the book, that "[…] superheroes should not be underestimated. Their apparent triviality is the very thing that gives them the ability to address serious issues […]." For example, Bolton informs us that the superhero genre can be sexist, but then he reassures us that fashion, an old hand at battling villainous female fetishization, can conquer that by neutralizing and subverting (i.e. copying) the Catwoman costume from the second Tim Burton Batman movie.[2]

It's not surprising, though, when you realize that Superheroes: Fashion and Fantasy is not an exhibit, or a book, about fashion inspired by superheroes; it's a fashion exhibit with the theme of "superhero" tacked on.[3] From telegraph.co.uk:

Therefore Bolton spends much of his time trying to cover up the inclusion of the more tangentially or not-really-related- at-all- to-superhero-costume fashions by invoking the great and mighty word "postmodern" (trendier, even, than "Pop Art"). It's true that semiological interpretations of the fashions will vary from individual to individual (while looking at the same ensemble, I saw a cheeky nod to Spider-Man underoos, while my coworker saw the female model swathed in bondage-like trappings and silencing surgeon-like face mask). However, this prestigious project can at times come up with no greater insights than that spider webs are an inspiration for both Spider-Man's costume and this (admittedly stunning) Armani dress. Additionally, some of the garments are clever ideas poorly executed. For example, Naoki Takizawa's Spring/Summer 2001 collection apparently makes fun of grotesquely exaggerated musculature: but without context, I stared at the photograph of a purple corrugated number for a while and vaguely thought "Venetian blinds" before "washboard abs" was supplied.

It's also fairly evident that Thierry Mugler's 1992 motorcycle bustier, that I like as well (it should be familiar to anyone who's seen George Michael's "Too Funky" music video, which was directed by Mugler) is included because (1) Ghost Rider, whose head is a flaming skull, rides a motorcycle; (2) there was a 2007 Ghost Rider movie; (3) sexy women and motorcycles are hot. In the book, its inclusion is justified not once, but twice. De Monebello writes, "As Andrew Bolton has noted, ‘Fashion shares with the superhero an inherent metaphorical malleability that fuels its fascination with the idea and the ideal of the superhero.' Thus the visitor will not be surprised find the Thierry Mugler bustier, with its polychrome handlebars and sideview mirrors evoking Ghost Rider […]."

In other words, according to Bolton, the fashion world, narcissistically enough, is interested in things that remind it of itself. However, Bolton makes an interesting slippage: he goes beyond identifying superheroes with fashion models and superhero costumes with fashion to wrongly conflate them. Bolton definitely sounds like he's describing models rather than superheroes when writes: "As close to physical perfection as is physically attainable [emphasis mine], the superhero body is forever youthful and forever awe-inspiring." To be fair, Giorgio Armani, in his intro, gets it. He simply writes: "In fiction the metamorphosis is the province of the superhero, a character who symbolizes man's desire to go beyond the boundaries of mortal limitations. In this comic-book context, the superhero's ability to do so is always signified by a change of costume." Chabon makes this important distinction in his fruitful essay, which opens up the topic of superheroes and fashion for further study: "The superhero costume as drawn [emphasis his] disdains the customary relationship in the fashion world between sketch and garment. […] Above all, it is not waiting to find fulfillment as cloth draped as a body" (and, Chabon takes it further, look rather silly when they are).

"Reality-based" fashion-themed programs such as America's Next Top Model and Project Runway may have turned, ahem, some of us into armchair fashionistas, but at their best, they manage to provoke thought with a challenge while having fun with it, at the same time exposing the nuts and bolts that go into illusion (one thing that fashion and superhero costumes have in common that this book could have addressed: the art of package-management in skintight apparel). Rather than having essays that state that superheroes and fashion are worth taking seriously because they evoke social and cultural issues, it would have been wonderful if the fashion designers could have simply taken the superhero designs more seriously. It would have been thrilling to see what the designers, putting their best Alexander McQueen heels forward, could do if they created an original ensemble, garment, or even just sketches specifically inspired by superheroes for this exhibit and book. It would be fascinating to hear from the designers themselves why some superhero costumes and logos work — like Gil Kane's enduring Green Lantern costume, elements of which I imagine resonate with far more people than the ever-shifting secret identities of the character itself — and others don't.

Chabon has his biases — for example, he writes: "In part, then, this disappointing air of saggy trouser seats […] may be the result of imaginative indolence, the sort that would permit a grown man to tell himself he will find gratification in walking the exhibition floor wearing […] a rubber Venom mask complete with punched-out eyeholes and flopping rubber bockwurst of a tongue" — but at least he humanely suggests that superherodom is out of the reach of everyone, while Bolton wants to pull off the fashion hat trick of making transformation seem available — for the right price — while ensuring that it still remains in the province of the right people. (As of "press time," via Heidi MacDonald's The Beat, I just found out that the exhibit prohibits superhero-costumed museum-goers.) I bet Carrie felt pretty hopeful when she put on that prom dress. A little pig's blood-accessorizing, and Carrie did "transform." The thing to remember, though, is that makeovers can go wrong.