To some women, Catwoman is the epitome of being strong, beautiful, and dangerous. To me, I’m on the fence about her.
Don’t get me wrong – she has been pretty kick-ass in some of the comics, TV shows, and films. There’s actually a humorous short in a Catwoman book I own that describes how to use a whip on your enemies. (In condensed form, the short says to start out with the whip in your hand with a conflicted look on your face before whirling around and letting it fly. Besides, you’re no wimp girlie.)
I guess I’m not a devoted fan because she always managed to elude me in my life. As a child, I used to watch the animated Batman show when we had TV time at my daycare. The owner of the daycare happened to pass by when I was watching the screen with another girl named Danielle and she exclaimed that Danielle looked like a younger version of Catwoman who was just on the screen. I remember asking the owner whether I could be like Catwoman too and she quickly said I was more of a Batgirl.
When I got older, I happened to see a cool t-shirt in the Six Flags gift shop with Catwoman on it with ‘Feisty’ on it. I asked the clerk at the shop if there were any more and she said that they were all sold out and that the display one was just a sample that they had to send back once all of the shirts were gone. I ended up walking out of there with the bright orange Batgirl shirt with ‘Wild’ blazing across the front.
So long story short, it seems like I destined to be attributed to Batgirl’s characteristics and persona versus the notorious cat with the whip and form-fitting bodysuit. Which kind of works more in my favor – I was never that interested in stealing bright, shiny objects for my personal use like the cat.