Ah, old-school toy licensing, when you’d grant a company rights to produce toys based on your show and they’d just slap the logo and/or characters on any old piece of garbage, whether it fit the style of the parent program or not.
Although, to be fair, I might break my boycott of today’s version of Star Trek if Zachary Quinto were in fact to be forced to wear the “Spock helmet” in the next film.
"Sorry, Spock. Starfleet’s orders. You’ve been chosen to test this new helmet they’re thinking of making a mandatory piece of landing party equipment."
"But, Captain, the design of this …" Spock paused to indicate barely concealed contempt, "… helmet … " he paused yet again to leave Kirk no doubt of his discomfort with the idea, " is illogical."
In reply, Kirk gave a shrug and a wry smirk, “It’s Starfleet. What’re you gonna do?”
Kirk had a point. In the past few years, the Nero and Khan affairs had depleted Starfleet Command of its best minds and most competent officers. The Federation was trying to rebuild the fleet, but prime leadership posts were now basically being filled by whoever remained with a pulse and functioning EEG readings. Logical chains of command and lines of succession protocols had been jettisoned out the airlock due to the emergency conditions Starfleet was operating under.
"I will, of course, do my duty, Captain," said Spock with resignation. "For his part, Doctor McCoy will undoubtedly take great pleasure in this assault on my dignity."
"Your sacrifice is appreciated, Mister Spock."
Spock turned, and left Jim’s quarters.
"It could be worse," Kirk thought to himself, as he pulled out the new black and silver satin comic-opera dress uniforms with the overdone epaulettes and fringe. "Could we look any more like we should be playing camp fascistic villains in a late eighties episode of Doctor Who?”