Art & Creativity Quote by Colleen Atwood

Atwood is describing a problem only a costume designer would frame so bluntly: how do you signal motion, power, and transformation without defaulting to the corny visual shorthand of “superhero” camp? “Something that could move” sounds practical, almost engineering-minded, but the real target is taste. “Spray painted leotards” is a jab at an era of fetishy spandex and comic-book literalism that can flatten characters into Halloween versions of themselves. She’s not just avoiding tackiness; she’s protecting the story’s emotional credibility.

The intent here is to argue for a quieter kind of spectacle. Movement isn’t only acrobatics or skin-tight shine; it’s the way fabric behaves, how seams direct the eye, how a silhouette implies readiness or restraint. Atwood’s best work (from gothic fantasy to sleek blockbuster worlds) often makes fantasy feel wearable, as if the character chose it rather than the studio imposed it. That’s the subtext: costume is character psychology under pressure. If the outfit screams, the person disappears.

There’s also a cultural moment embedded in the line. It points to the post-90s shift in big-budget design toward “grounded” realism: leather, texture, layers, clothes that look lived-in. Atwood’s aside works because it’s funny, specific, and a little contemptuous. She’s reminding us that design isn’t decoration; it’s an argument about what kind of world we’re willing to believe.