The boy wonder was a role model to a young Wrenchfarm. Daring, smart, and able to handle the worst convicts and psychos of Gotham City, Robin embodied all the qualities I wished I could in my most private fantasies.
But his costume was a custom made battlesuit of integrated high-tech gadgets and bulletproof super-weave. Mine was basically a pair of ladies tights and a red tunic that Velcroed together at the crotch.
I never felt further from the Tim Drake ideal than I did fidgeting with my Velcro crotch desperately praying that nobody was watching.
2. Dime store Link/Robin Hood/Peter Pan
Zelda 2: The Adventures of Link left an indelible mark on my childhood. It was a game I was obsessed with and the first thing I bought with money I earned myself. It was only natural that I would want to dress like my hero for the Holidays.
Unfortunately, there might have been a little break down in communication between me and my mom. What I ended up with that year wasn't the iconic green tunic, glimmering sword, and Triforce emblazoned shield of my hero, but a sad mash up of fantasy characters. Like a Dollarstore knock-off toy trying to avoid copyright law.
A green corduroy cape, a tasseled brown shirt, green tights (again... hum, what was it with my mom and those?), a cheap plastic bow and arrow set that snapped in my hands, and the pointy green cap of the Boy Who Never Grew Up. I limped up and down the street for a handful of houses before calling it a night. Link may always finish his adventures with a full item kit and a wallet swelling with rubies, but I had only a handful of candy corn and a few spare candy necklaces to mark my sad journey.
3. Cardboard Robot
The classic old school robot. I rocked this look when I was four years old, proving that we never really change.
Tin foil plating, a coat hanger antenna, Pringle can arms, my costume was actually pretty swag.
Sadly, it provided ABSOLUTELY ZERO protection from a devastating gut punch delivered by the neighborhood bully. It was at that tender young age that I realized appearances don't matter unless you can back them up. After all, what kind of killer robot lets some future multiple-offender/gas attendant take his candy?
I swear, if I ever have a kid, his/her robot costume will have a functioning plasma pistol.
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