Anyone can adjust what’s on the runway for use in their everyday wardrobe. Obviously this little number is ideal (if a bit on the nose) for your next pottery class, and this is THE way to stand out at the gym while still gettin’er done, but what do you wear when things turn–as they so often do–completely to shit? This column is here to help. Welcome to Runway to (Shit Just Got) Real Life. You’re welcome in advance.
What to wear to: A long-haul flight beside a baby
There’s a reason so many comedians feel the need to write airplane material. Sure, it might seem hack-y to have all those jokes about little bags of peanuts out there, but you have to remember that humour is a way of dealing with stress and sadness and anger, and what causes those emotions more than air travel? I mean, obviously hunger, or divorce, or an inability to pay the bills, or any one of the much more legitimate reasons to be angry or sad or stressed that exist in the world do, but from a privileged, in-a-position-to-travel perspective, the experience of being on an airplane really can be a fresh hell each time. And there is no fresher, yet somehow classic hell than looking up from your cosy window seat to see a family and their tiny infant baby walking towards you. As far as I’m concerned, babies on a plane are equally terrible as snakes on a plane. I’ve had it with both of them. The problem with the baby thing is that really, what are you going to do? You can’t even be mad, particularly, because this nice family is just trying to take their tiny, loud, sticky child with them to wherever they are going, and the tiny, loud, sticky child only knows they are somewhere different than usual and their head feels like it’s going to explode. It’s as bad a situation for them as it is for you, except it is possibly worse for them because they know that as soon as they got on the plane holding what is literally their most cherished creature in the whole world, everyone else on the plane collectively rolled their eyes and hoped they weren’t seated next to it. YIKES. A real lose-lose, if you ask me. And maybe you didn’t ask me, but take that up with my editor then, because here we are and off we go.
Plane basics: get comfy
Get in tune with this season’s Japanese influences and buy a robe-like blazer. Etro and Dolce and Gabbana were just two of the big names busting out cherry blossom prints, high buns (also a classic “I’m getting on an airplane” look), and wrap-style floaty jackets and dresses. If you do not have anything loose and flow-y in your wardrobe, 1) may god have mercy on your soul, and 2) get to the airport early and enjoy one of the only nice things about those giant, sterile environments–the fact that they are basically high security malls. (This can be good or bad, depending on how you feel about capitalism on any given day, and/or whether or not they take your coffee away from you at security, forcing you to buy the same coffee for seven dollars inside.)
Take things you can use to build a wall
A scarf, headphones, the aforementioned drapey jacket. These are the bricks you will use to build up a wall of non-baby permeable sight, sounds, and even textures. An airplane is the time for cashmere. Treat yourself. This barrier to the outside world will also help you ignore the snores of strangers, the sight of the old lady next to you somehow slurping a crusty bread roll, and, god forbid, the moment the baby seated near you starts to act cute. You cannot view this moment. No good will come of it. Either you will get sucked into a seven-hour long, unending game of a peekaboo, or you will be stuck holding it while its parents sleep (and kind of loving it, babies smell great, just saying) (until they suddenly smell terrible, obviously), or you will not be annoyed by it and therefore all your other precautions will go out the window. Give a plane baby an inch, and it will take 300 vertical miles. It will be drooling and asleep with its foot on your tray table in no time, and there will be nothing you can do, because it’s actually kind of cute, if you look at it, and why are you calling it an it, clearly she’s a she, and what a cute she… NO. Be strong. Shroud yourself in jackets and scarves and tunes and go to sleep.
Easy-off sandals
It’s summer time, so you have a lot of options, footwear-wise. Which is good, because no one likes the lady holding everyone up at security by slowly untying her lace-up thigh-high boots to put them through the x-ray thing. That lady is the worst. We all know the “random” searches are anything but random, but instead of basing their stop program on creepy racist theories, I would like to suggest that airport security takes special note of anyone at the airport in full make up and heels. What’s their deal… what are they hiding? Cause for concern should be tripled during red eye flights and for long-haul journeys. You don’t want to be wearing stilettos to fly to Australia, you just don’t! These are weapons! Let me keep my nail file but take those away. Now everyone get some chill, supportive footwear and meet me in row C, because shoes you can slip on and off easily will come in handy on the plane as well; pop some cozy socks on and you’ll feel like you’re in [the least comfortable] bed [of your entire life]! Basically, if you’re seated next to a baby, all you can do is make yourself as comfortable as possible. Unless…
Try employing verboten accessories
Unfortch, a lot of things that might scare off parents (studded bracelets, E-Z open prescription drugs, more than 100ml of liquids and gels together in one place) also tend to scare airport security. Because your main goal at security and customs should be seeming as boring as possible to airport officials, you’re going to have to appeal to the parents’ morals to get a seat change. 50 Shades of Grey or some other smutty romance novel is a last-minute duty-free purchase that you’ll get more benefit from than that discounted YSL bag. Read the sexy bits aloud under your breath and sigh loudly before offering the kids some Tylenol PMs or a swig of your tiny, plane-sized whiskey. If the parents are not suitably horrified, maybe just play some rap music at an obnoxiously loud volume, so tinny swears make their way through your headphones and into the stuffy air surrounding their children. Bye bye, babies!
Go full cray
Avoid the potential baby situation altogether by being upgraded to platinum executive first class. There are very rarely babies in there (who would pay for it?) and even if there are, the distance between seats, constant flow of free booze, and ability to turn your seat into a flat bed with the push of a button do wonders to take the mind off of, well, everything. For a shot at an upgrade, try dressing like a bonkers rich person. Wear a shirt made out of exotic carpet, or pop on something lamé. Lurk around the check-in desk in sunglasses like you’re avoiding paparazzi, and be incredibly polite to the airline employees. Explain to them that your assistant seems to have made an error in booking, and ask politely if there’s anything they can do to help you out? You fly with them so frequently, it’d just be such a shame to have to miss out on the cabin service you’ve come to know and love. Maybe wear a weird hat so they know you mean eccentric rich-guy business.
Speaking as someone who once spent a flight to England seated between two toddlers while their parents slept the row in front of us, and who eventually fell asleep with a three year old stranger’s hand on their boob because the child had also fallen asleep and the options were to move the child or give in to the low-level molestation and take a much-needed nap, I feel that I can say traveling with kids that are not yours is the worst. Do the best you can, clothes-wise and attitude-wise. It will be over soon. Until it is, there’s always SkyMall.
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Monica Heisey is a writer and comedian from Toronto. She has also written for VICE, Huffington Post, and She Does the City. Follow her on Twitter @monicaheisey.
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