Death To The Suspenders Stigma

With the popularity of comic book culture today, it’s a wonder that comic book nerds are still portrayed as four-eyed, socially awkward geeks. Who’s really to blame for the ongoing stereotype, and will we ever be shown as diverse as we truly are?

“You don’t know comics! Prove it! X-Men movies – list them from best to worst.” This is just one of the responses I’ve gotten from guys when they find out that I’m a comic book fan. I’ve been told that I don’t look like a comic book fan from mostly everyone I’ve talked to about the subject. At the 2011 San Diego Comic-Con, my co-creator of The Cupcake Rogues and I went balls to the wall at nerd mecca. I spent hours doing my make up for Domino and had a near-heart attack-inducing fan girl moment when Mark Hamill walked by and told us we looked perfect. It felt like home, like we were with our own kind. And then… we were asked if we were working.  “Surely you were hired to pretend you like comic books to get the nerds interested in whatever your company is slinging. Or maybe you’re booth girls?”

…these are my only options? As many of my fellow female comic book nerds can relate to, I’ve dealt with this prejudice all of my life, and frankly, it’s never gotten any less irritating. I understand that the outside world may see us comic book nerds in a certain light. It’s painted that way in television, movies, and pop culture in general. But I’m always surprised when my own people question my knowledge. When did we did we start buying into the stereotypes of ourselves? Perhaps because, although media amplifies typecasts, the reason they are so successful, is because they’re based in some fact.

“Surely you were hired to pretend you like comic books to get the nerds interested in whatever your company is slinging. Or maybe you’re booth girls?”

If you ask a non-comic fan on the street what a comic-book reader looks like, the answer you get will most likely be a harsh one. Socially inept, awkward, too skinny, too fat, lives in their parents’ basement, no romantic or social life to speak of because they’re too obsessed with the imaginary. Even if we asked ourselves to describe a comic book nerd, would we honestly not be thinking the same? The portrayal of our kind has ranged from harsh to entertaining, but the formula remains the same. And what confuses the issue more is that now comic books have become a staple in our pop culture, but still our stereotype hasn’t changed. We see swarms of “normies” flocking to the latest comic book movie, or someone rocking a “Batman” t-shirt that’s never picked up a comic book in their life. And don’t even get me started on the inaccurate plastic-looking skanky Halloween costumes in a booty shorts version of Iron Man girl or a Venom costume that consists of a mini-dress and boots (yes, that actually exists). In many ways, comic books have become cool and popular, but alas, their faithful children remain a laughing stock. So why hasn’t the media caught up with the times?

Plain answer? Stereotypes sell. I can’t tell you a time I’ve ever seen a suave, socially together character on a show that happens to love comic books. When I think of nerds on television, I think of Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons, Dwight Shrute from The Office and Jess Day from the new show, New Girl, for those who can appreciate a girl making Lord of the Rings references. All are entertaining and some even heartfelt in that pitying kind of way, but none are characters that make you want to scream, “Yep! They’re one of my people!” Even the comic book nerds that might be considered kind of cool, like the loveable geeks on The Big Bang Theory or Troy and Abed on Community carry a certain stigma. How are you supposed to know that I’m the token comic book nerd unless I’m carrying my Batman lunch pail and hitching up my flood pants while I sit awkwardly in the corner, silently hoping that I can get through the day without any interaction from the cool crowd?

While the outsiders are the main ones with a misguided view, I can’t help but notice that it also comes from within our own obsession. Even Captain America, Spider-Man and Superman have to drop the nerdy façade to become the strapping hero. As Peter Parker and Clark Kent, the characters remain bumbling and awkward and pre-serum Steve Rogers wasn’t exactly Mr. Popular, kind heart and all. Recently I saw a reality TV show called Geek Love. I hoped that, being based on real people, it would break the mold and show some people that you wouldn’t give a second glance to strutting their comic stuff. Of course, this is “reality” television, so all I got was the most entertainingly awkward nerds at New York Comic Con. They were touching and heartwarming, complete with a dash of pity as they made Chewbacca noises and brought their mom with them on painfully awkward dates – not only justifying this over-done stereotype, but proving that it does have roots in fact.

So why does being a nerd have to carry such a negative connotation anymore? Shouldn’t we be passed this? This is why I wear my Deadpool t-shirt proudly and endure the skepticism that follows.  I gladly go through the “she must be a pretender” gauntlet test to prove that not all of us fit into the very tiny box that the media has created for us. I’m willing to bet that almost all of us here have a lot of friends that *gasp* don’t know a thing about comic books other than what was included in the latest blockbuster. Most of us here could probably walk the streets and pass for a “normie” nine times out of ten. So maybe it’s time for us to reset the standard on how we’re viewed. To show that just because we don’t fit the mold, doesn’t mean we can’t blow your mind with our comic book knowledge, and if we do fit the mold, it doesn’t mean we have to drop the glasses and awkwardness to be a hero.