Flying in Not-So-Fashionable Skies

Everything about flying is uncivilized.

Stale air. Lackage of snackage. Getting a cupful of soda (really, I can’t have the can? Really?) “In-flight entertainment.” Feeling like you’re going to die every time you hit an air pocket.

Yet all that naysaying has one common denominator: we have no choice about any of it. No control whatsoever! As passengers, we’re at the mercy of those spry, gorgeous flight attendants. 


So maybe they’re not all gorgeous. But a shocking percentage of them are. And if they ain’t got gorg genes, they at least have some smart genes in ‘em. They know how to fix their hair, paint on some makeup, choose their most flattering outfit (pants vs. skirt vs. dress, sweater vs. button down vs. jacket, decisions, decisions!), and they all always look pretty damn dandy for being up in the air all day every day.

I thank my lucky stars every chance I get that I’m not a flight attendant (though I’d probably be super skinny for lack of appetite - hellooooo turbulence-induced anxiety attacks!)

I’m heading west twice in the next two months - first off to Denver for work, then San Fran for Ryan and Ali’s wedding (!!) - and let me just say: I’m dreading my co-passengers outfits as much as the turbulence. 


Why do people think it’s OK to wear pajamas on airplanes? Plaid pants? Cartoon character flannels? Chambray drawstrings? Omg, bathrobes? Why, why, WHY?

It is beyond unacceptable that peeps think it’s perfectly fine to wear their pj’s in public.

Even folks donning sweatpants in the street gives me the heeb jeeb’s. If you’re a lazy ‘lil housecat who likes being ‘comfy’ all the time, then stay put in the house. Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dirty looks (from me - 200 different ways...oh yes, I can).

No one wants to see what you wear to sleep. That’s like seeing your coworkers in bathing suits.

Plane-time pajama pants are unnecessary visual vomitus that’s bound to be regurgitated at extremely unwelcome times.

Ew, visions of ugliness! OH MAN, those Scooby Doo sweats? Paul Frank? Tweety Bird? Joe Boxer? Santa Claus in July? I will now be forced to mentally judge the shit out of you every time I pull on my super civilized toile pants (whose hours of usage are strictly enforced, 10:30pm-8:00am only).

I digress.

The point is, people, that it’s totes unacceptable to wear your plaidies when you’re a mile high.

Especially when you’re traveling overseas. As my lovely lady friend, Jill Smith, aptly observed - we are representing America. Our foreign friends (foes?) already have a scathing sense of us - lazy, obese, etc. - so why are you middlings purposely trying to sabotage your civilized countrymen?

I ain’t saying your outfit has to be anything fance. But pull yourself together. Like me and K. Cobb on our way to Charleston. Throw on a cute cardi and necklace. Ditch those old Asics. And for crying out loud, leave the slippers at home.