So Sideshow Collectibles’ half-scale Catwoman statue isn’t technically alive. I’ve dated worse.
She’s not available for preorder. She’ll likely cost you or me an arm and a leg once she is up for sale, but when you’re dealing with Batman’s finicky female counterpart, a certain amount of financial loss is to be expected. You pay to play with the pretty kitty; that’s the law of Gotham’s concrete jungle.
I would protest, of course. I would stomp my feet and raise my voice. I would demand recompense. And then she’d fix me with that smile.
That damn smile. She knows she’s already won. It’s her confidence that gets me. Her face isn’t otherworldly beautiful — she’s just a normal, attractive woman.
Her body isn’t some unattainable ideal. She’s just a woman that knows how to make a catsuit work. She’s sure of herself, and it shows.
She may be only half a human high, but she’s a full serving of wonderful.
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