Wonderoos

When I was a little kid -- maybe 3 or 4 -- I had a pair of cowboy boots. And a set of Wonder Woman Underoos. I loved both of those items individually; combined together, I felt unstoppable. My favorite thing to do was to throw on my underoos and cowboy boots, and then play Super Heroes with my brother. Sometimes he would be Superman, other times Batman or Spiderman. (I'm pretty sure he had Underoos sets for all the super heroes.) We knew their superpowers and weaknesses. I pretended to have Wonder Woman's bulletproof bracelets and her golden lasso of truth. We would race around the backyard and through the house, fighting villains and channeling our best super hero dialog. But my favorite was when I would yell "To my invisible jet!" and my brother would run forward, yelling back over his shoulder at me, "Where is it? I don't see --"And thunk. He'd do a spot-on pitch backward, as if he had run headfirst into the Invisible Jet. Every time, I would dissolve into a mess of giggles, dropping to the ground to catch my breath. And he would keep character, looking at me in bewilderment, as if I was at fault for not pointing out the Invisible Jet's location so that he could stop in time to miss it.

I wish I had adult size Wonder Woman underoos today. Exactly like the ones that I had as a kid. I've tried searching for them -- I don't think they make them. You can come close through different websites or by piece mealing together a tanktop and underwear, but nothing brings back the nostalgia of childhood quite like I imagine the official branding of Underoos. If given the choice, I'm pretty sure I would give up standard undergarments to live in a set of Wonder Woman Underoos again. Along with a pair of bright red cowboy boots.