Somewhere in the haze before I go to sleep, when my eyes are closed, I have strange thoughts. Sometimes as simple as questioning what’s in the boneless spareribs I had for dinner, but sometimes I have a full-fledged philosophical epiphany.
Last night I wondered in order for super-heroes to wear their flashy spandex body suits, they would require hours of design, approval, and manufacture to get to the final product. I wish I could be a super-hero uniform designer. Sure it’s a highly specialized field and you would probably not be able to show other outfits in your portfolio to other people.
I mean you couldn’t tell Dr. Octopus you had worked on Spider-Man’s outfit! He would definitely torture you to see Spidey’s billing information. Yes, you would need to keep it private… I wonder if you could design a villain’s outfit? Would he pay you, or just kill you. I love design and all, but not enough to die.
How could you advertise?
The Super-Villains would find you and… gulp… POW! On second thought I bet there is a super-hero designer who designs super-hero outfits. DESIGNOMAN! He (or She) could defend himself against the likes of super villains.
“No Catwoman, you know I can’t give out that sort of information about my clients. Now is it going to be the black spandex, or would you like to try pink? Pink is the new black you know.”
Ah well, it was worth a thought.