When I was sixteen, I tried my hand at cosplay. I already knew that I would never be “cool” in the traditional sense of the term, but (being an incorrigible nerd already) figured I might as well accumulate nerd cred. I dressed as Donna Troy, the least interesting of Wonder Woman’s sidekicks, on the grounds that:
- She wore pants;
- She covered her midriff;
- She was not usually drawn as someone who bought her bras at a specialty shop; and
- We both had straight black hair, which meant that I would not have to buy a wig.