This week’s Lesbeehive Throwback Thursday revisits Bo’s never-dying adoration of Lynda Carter’s depiction of Wonder Woman, along with fantastic retro images of the Queen of the Brunettes.
Whenever anyone asks me who was my first love, I always reply, “Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman.” Oh, there were other brunettes that stole my heart at an early age: Alyssa Milano; Shannen Doherty; Julie Andrews as Mary Poppins (I didn’t even know Julie was a blonde until I saw The Sound of Music when I was 12), but no one overwhelmed my senses like Wonder Woman. I was obsessed with her. Not the comic-her, though my obsession bled into the comics a bit, but it mostly stayed focused on the real life walking, talking Wonder Woman smiling at me all buxom and strong from my TV screen, eyes as pale as an icy sea, crimson lips parted in a mischievous smile. She became my idea of a perfect beauty, mixed with the mother I worshipped who also had dark hair and red lips.
I did everything I could to bring Wonder Woman into my life – I wore the underoos and effortlessly defeated my Superman and Batman clad brothers. I turned my Barbies into victims that Wonder Woman saved, or villains that she lassoed and triumphed over. When I was 4 I was Wonder Woman for Halloween. My Dad sewed a felt chest plate onto a red leotard, made me a headband with a star, and made me a lasso out of real rope. When my Wonder Woman mask broke, my Mom came to the rescue with her own Revlon Red lipstick, the same brand and shade Lynda sold in the commercials that I studied carefully, committing to memory the woman I wanted to become. She sold me beauty, but also strength, silly sweetness, and an affection for giant lensed glasses and buns. When I recall all the signs that I was destined to love women passionately and without abandon for the rest of my life, I count Wonder Woman as its inception. The little girl gazing at the woman that beautiful knew that there was someone deserving of a deep and abiding adoration.