Pepper Potts Explains It All For You

And now it's time for installment #53 in the continuing advice column



Hello, Pepperheads! It's me, your fabulous role model, Pepper Potts, with another column of my internationally syndicated lifestyle column for the go-getter young woman of the 21st century. If you've been reading my advice, you're modern, stylish, sexy, fantastic, and best of all, inside and out you're Pepperiffic! Because a Pepper Girl doesn't just moan about what she wants...she takes it! Yeah! Wouldn't you like to be a Pepper, too? Don't think too hard, girls—the answer: yes.

Let's take a look at today's letter, from a Miss J. Foster of Manhattan, New York!

Dear Pepper,

I'm desperately in love with my handsome boss—a prestigious New York doctor—but he never seems to have eyes for me aside from business! It's always "Nurse Foster, bring me those files," or "Nurse Foster, please bring in the next patient," or "Nurse Foster, isn't that the Mighty Thor over there?" I try to corner him in the off hours to chat with him, but he closes his door, plays his recording of a thunderstorm, and when I go in to see him, the window is open and he's gone! Worse yet, the only time he perks up around a woman is the times when this six-foot tall Danish or Swedish brunette drops by to visit him, wearing this god-awful white miniskirt dress with a purple cape and (get this) carrying a sword! Then he's all "come in, my dear," and "how lovely to see you again." How do I fix it so that Scandanavian buttinski goes back to her wooden shoes and her tulips, leaving the handsome Donald Bl doctor I referred to earlier all to myself?

J. Foster, you poor dope. Snap out of it! This hunky love-object doctor of yours is obviously so attractive to gorgeous Amazon women that he couldn't beat them away with a wooden cane, even if he had one! So it's time for you to use all the feminine wiles and pepperosity at your command. Why, I myself was in a similar situation recently when my boss, Mister "S," hired a curvy new assistant who vamped her way across the office trying to get into his pants and his heart. Uh-uh, you Russian floozy! Only one who gets to touch Mr. "S"'s heart is yours pepper-truly.



So, as i instruct my Pepperheads to do in every eventuality: do what Pepper does. Confuse the little harlot, whether she's from Moscow or Reykjavik, by baffling her wee little strumpet senses—just tell her an out-and-out fib. Like she's gonna even know...her bra is bigger than her brains!


Panels from Tales of Suspense #51 (March 1964), written by Stan Lee, pencils and inks by Don Heck, letters by Artie Simek

Then, to keep the Muscovite Minx from checking your tiny, harmless, little white...it's not even a fib, it's a figure of speech...just make sure that she thinks your boss has no interest in her, her fabulous body and her enormous pointy bosoms:



Later, of course, when your boss checks to see if Miss Jezebel Tartmeister stopped by, you can say with complete honesty and candor that there certainly hasn't been a beautiful woman by to see him. You don't even have to keep your fingers crossed, because we all know beauty comes not only from our fabulous designer clothes, expensive hairstyles, and elaborate make-up, but also from "inside." You know, that spleen operation you had last year so that he'd take notice of what a beautiful spleen you had, in the hopes that some day he'd hold you in his manly arms and whisper, "Why, Miss Potts, what a gorgeous spleen you have." Like he ever notices.



In no time at all it'll be you escorting Mr. "S" to that afternoon cheap-seat matinee of Wicked! Make sure he buys you the big popcorn, that cheapskate!



However: beware the dreaded switcharoo:



So there you go, Nurse Foster...a clever mistruth, a caustic insult, a classic bit of misdirection, and don't forget cutting her brake lines, and you'll be hopping into the boss's lap in no time! Say goodbye to the dreary working week and hello to Fabulous City, Arizona in your new role as The Boss's Wife! It's Pepper-tested and Pepper-approved, and if it doesn't work for you, you obviously fudged it all up. So don't forget there's always a plan B:



So until next time...stay fabulous, stay sexy, stay Pepperiffic, girls!

Pepper Potts, Fashion Critic

And now it's time for another visit with America's top fashion advice columnist,


Hello, all you fabulous Pepper-groupies! Labor Day is coming up so that means it's time to slide those crisp white clothes into your walk-in closet and step into an ensemble of brilliant and rich autumn shades. As you know, I'm quite a fan of all things red and gold, but if you've had your colors done at any one of the many Pepper Potts salons around the country, you'll know which shades suit you when you order your fall wardrobe from the Pepper Potts collection available online or at the top designer shops nationally!

Our letter today comes from a Mrs. Bambi Arbogast, who writes:

Dear Pepper, I work at a large global electronics and heavy-industrial complex. One of my co-workers, the boss's chauffeur, in fact...well, let's call him "Cheerful"...is a pleasant enough man, but his sense of style is atrocious! He dresses like a former boxer who looks like he shops at Robert Hall. Our boss is a debonair man of style and quite a playboy with the ladies who dresses in custom-made suits that cost several thousands of dollars. How can I politely and subtlely convince "Cheerful" to improve his own wardrobe so he looks more professional at work and at events with our boss?

It sounds like your "Cheerful" co-worker is quite a chump, Bambi, and there's simply no reason to moddlycoddle along someone who doesn't realize that you simply must dress for success. Let me give you an example. Recently one of my co-workers, a brash and boisterous brute, asked for my fashion advice:


All panels are from Tales of Suspense #58 (October 1964), script by Stan Lee, pencilling by Don Heck, inking by Dick Ayers, lettering by Sam Rosen

When my expert opinion is solicited on the subject I know better than anyone, I snap into action to command the attention of all!:



A fashionista is nothing without her tools, so make certain you have the proper equipment to examine and critique the clothing of those around you:



And level your fashion criticism with directness and a witty bon mot! Your subject will appreciate your candor and expertise and thank you for your helpful honestly!



Well, I hope that solves your problems, Bambi! "Cheerful" will be sure to thank you and make sure he knows where the credit is due: with Pepper Potts, Fashion Critic!

Toodle-ooh for now, Pepper fans! You'll excuse me...I'm off to a fabulous party in my beautiful new ensemble!: