Well, no, not always.



In the late '60s, Wonder Woman renounced her Amazon past and powers (why? well, to help out her boyfriend, of course) and became a gun-toting super-spy.  The headline of the first issue says it all: "Forget the Old...the NEW Wonder Woman is here!"  And we see that the "NEW" Wonder Woman, in her fashionable new Emma Peel duds, has painted a big "X" over that old hag in yesterday's clothes, much like a proud new girlfriend would tar the reputation of her antecedent.  Why would she do this?  Well obviously she disdains that "old" Wonder Woman, that sorry old biddy with her square looks and her frumpy outfits.  She hates her past, she hates who she is, she wants to reinvent herself.  Why?  Well, the mercantile answer is "sales were dropping," but the psychological answer is "to please her male readers."

Forget the old, the new is here!  Let's think about that for a moment.  Can one imagine a headline crowing "Forget The Old Batman!" "Forget the Old Flash!" or even "Forget The Old Martian Manhunter!"  DC, obviously, does not consider Diana a human being, but rather a product to market to a changing demographic, like a soap or a car or a TV.  Or a girlfriend.  Disdain the old, throw it away, celebrate the new.

What does this say to boys?  It says "DC recognizes your needs!  You're sick of that old sex object?  Here's a NEW sex object!" (and certainly those wonderful new clothes will never look silly!) 

What does it say to girls?  It says "If you want to stay appealing, you've got to be willing to give up your strength, buy all the new clothes, and hate yourself."

I do not think I state the case too strongly.

Who is Supergirl?  This image is a good place to start:



Here we see not one or two but six different Supergirls, all with distinct backgrounds and personalities.  (And all a bunch of come-hither sluts, but that's a topic for another day.)

Supergirl's bio seems pretty straightforward.  She's Kara, Superman's cousin, another survivor of Krypton, right?  Well, it's true up until the dreaded Crisis on Infinite Earths when, for branding purposes, it was decided by the folks at DC that only Superman could be the Last Kryptonian.  So Supergirl was killed off and then simply reinvented.  As a blob of protoplasm, created by Lex Luthor.  Holy wish fulfillment!  Supergirl in a test-tube, lounging around Lex's apartment, dressed in skimpy outfits, powerless in comparison to her old self (but of course), and serving at Lex's whim.  What could that possibly mean?  (Lex, for good measure, was suddenly young, bearded, and had a full head of hair -- a virile new Lex to dominate the new weakling Supergirl.)  Following that, she is "merged" with a real human girl, then shows up again later as the future daughter of Superman, then later still as Superman's cousin again, but this time a different cousin.  And then she turns evil.  Which, believe me, I can understand.

Jesus Fucking Christ on a pogo stick, what the hell are they thinking with this crap?  Because I mean face it, at this point Supergirl isn't anything any more, she's a blonde with tits in a Superman outfit.  This is no modification for a shifting market, this is homicidal.  What contempt DC has for her!  What contempt they have for their female readers!  Supergirl!  Last Daughter of Krypton!  Until we need a new one, then, hey, kill the bitch off, reform her as an automaton, put her in someone else's body, do whatever the hell you want with her.  She's only a superhuman, what's she going to do about it?  As long as she's got blond hair and big tits, she's still Supergirl, right?  One's as good as another!  Why does she need anything like a personality?

Almost as bad as her total lack of identity, Supergirl no longer stands for anything.  Superman stands for truth and justice, and always has, but I have to say, once you've been reinvented as a blob of protoplasm, you kind of can't stand for anything any more, except for the ever-changing desires of male readers.

And then, of course, there is Power Girl, pictured here in repose by the inestimable Adam Hughes.



Power Girl began life as, yes, another last surviving Kryptonian (at this point I'm wondering if maybe Krypton never blew up at all).  She had, yes, enormous knockers and an aggressive fighting style, but at least, Jiminy Crickets, she was an actual, you know, superhero.  Crisis simply eliminated her from the universe, and she was brought back as a completely different person, the grand-daughter of an Atlantean sorcerer.  Same hair, same outfit, same tits, completely different person.  Who cares?  What does it matter?  A woman, to the editors and publishers at DC, is her outfit, her hair and her boobs, what the hell difference does her, you know, life story matter?  Power Girl has had a kid she's forgotten about, she's had her powers taken away on a moment's notice, she's gotten herself hoodwinked by a spaceship, for Christ's sake!  And then, in the Justice League television show, Power Girl is reinvented yet again, this time as a clone of Supergirl, except, you know, with bigger tits, because there's always room for improvement, and renamed (gulp) Galatea.

And then there's Batgirl.



There have been many Batgirls, just as there have been many Robins.  Betty Kane, then Barbara Gordon, then Helena Bertinelli, then Cassandra Cain.  Okay, that happens.

I happen to like Barbara Gordon.  That's me.  She seems to me to be the best iteration of the character.  She's a librarian (that is, "smart") by day, and an ass-kicking crimefighter (that is, "tough") by night.  "Smart" and "tough" seems like a good combination for a female crime-fighter.  (I can't speak to her red handbag pictured above.)  

What happened to Barbara Gordon?  Well, she got shot by the Joker, and paralyzed, and became Oracle, a wheelchair-bound homebody whose superpower is surfing the internet.  Why?  Batman got his back broken back there somewhere, why isn't he wheelchair bound?  Why can't there be a miracle cure for Barbara Gordon?  Why can't she be allowed to put on her skin-tight batsuit again and swing through the mean streets of Gotham once more?

Well, because she is, as the boys like to say, "damaged goods."  She's in a wheelchair.  You might feel sympathy for a beautiful girl in a wheelchair, but who would want to fuck her?  Only for the sake of mercy.  DC is "done" with Barbara Gordon.  Now she's the helpful ex, the girl who can't quite let go, the bespectacled "good girl" who will get you out of a jam but will, at the end of the day, be at home alone.  But that's okay, because DC always has a "NEW!" Batgirl to offer you, always another set of tits in a black suit to fantasize about, no need to wonder what happens to "old" sex symbols -- they're always around, alone, just waiting to be "useful."

The list, unfortunately, goes on.  Huntress is the daughter of Bruce Wayne and Catwoman, until she's not.  Catwoman is Selina Kyle, until she's not.  Hawkgirl is Sheira Hall, until she's not, Black Canary is Dinah Lance, until she's replaced by her own daughter -- calling Billy Wilder, someone found your Fedora.

And then there is Wonder Girl.  Wonder Girl is Diana as a younger person, right?  Well, no.  Or, she is, unless she's Diana's "younger sister,"  Donna Troy, who is or is not an Amazon, or else is a mortal given powers, or else she's a goddess-created twin sister, or else she's Cassandra Sandsmark, the daughter of a mortal woman and Zeus (ouch!). 

Is it any wonder that the "Women in Refrigerators" device shows up so often in DC narratives?  The women of the DCU aren't human beings, and certainly not ever at the level of their male counterparts.  They're props, disposable, mere reflections of their male protagonists' (and readers') desires.  If DC ever wonders why more girls don't read their comics, they might consider wondering first what a girl is.  People, male and female alike, haven't been reading Batman for 70 years because he's got a cool suit, they're fascinated by the character, the Dark Knight waging his never-ending war on crime.  But not one of the major female heroes of the DCU has made it from origin to now without changing her identity.

UPDATE: It occurs to me, upon reflection, that when Green Lantern came home to find his girlfriend in his refrigerator, that the editors may have been expressing Green Lantern's need for a new refrigerator.  He had probably had the old one since college.