When life began several billion years ago, somewhere in the primordial muck of a vaguely bluish planet, nobody had ever thought of the concept of Spandex. Ages passed, and though the apes swung freely through the trees, they showed no predilection towards wearing the underwear over their pants. This is, of course, because they didn't even have pants. But even if they did, no self-respecting chimpanzee would have dared to invert the natural order of clothing.
Capes were briefly in vogue, but then humanity invented the coat and they seemed to go out of style- except among period re-enactors and fans of Japanese animation, but nobody seemed to be asking them. And though great nations soldiered bravely through fear, fire, and migraine-inducing political campaigns, there was never a man who would have dreamed of appearing in skintight primary colors on a public street.
Then came the Thirties. The Depression was in full swing, Stalin and Mussolini were busily giving a bad name to men with prominent jaws, and the unhappy masses needed something to cheer themselves up. Somewhere in this mess, a bright fellow came up with an idea: what if there was a man who could help us fix all this? A mighty man, the likes of whom were never seen before? A super man?
The idea took off like a cruise missile. Suddenly, the fictional skies were crowded with endless characters. Men with muscles larger than their heads, women whose cleavage defied every known law of physics, all with every attribute on display under strangely cut, skintight uniforms.
And the underwear.
We must not forget the underwear.