The flight is part of the fun no matter the destination I fly to. Just like getting dressed is. Oh, going to the coffee shop near by? Let’s see what would make me have more fun to and in the coffee shop.
I once went to pick up a friend at the airport dressed in pyjamas. It was winter, I was wearing a head-to-toe puffer jacket and few could have guessed, let alone got any hint of the party I was – dreamily – having on my own. Literally. The comfort of having had a bubble bath, put a moisturiser on, got into pyjamas, into jacket, into car, listened to music and sang along on the way to the airport is just another way to party to me. It was at night and it was winter.
It is, nevertheless, true that I, sometimes, put on the high-waisted, (g)old blue jeans, a white t-shirt, the favourite-of-the-hour pair of shoes and feel like ready for the party in the club. I just let the hair, perfume and nails do the trick.
The little things… They are never little.
The flight to Bali was the party before the party called Bali. I knew I wanted to have on not only comfortable – obviously – clothes, but also clothes that inject some sort of fun into the party I was about to have on my own whilst everyone on the plane would be sleeping and clothes that are close to myself. Close like a pyjama is.
You could wear the grey dress; I wore it on long flights and it’s fabulously comfortable (I was about to sleep in it at some point after all), mom told me. Oh right, I told myself, I feel pretty party in it. It is the dress that seems to fly places all over and a dress I share with mom. I can see her doing the straight face, though; she got used to me wanting to wear her clothes in time. She can always see me doing the grinning face.
It was too cold to fly on a Qatar flight in flip-flops, so I put my white Golden Goose on; they always feel like barefoot. Flip-flops and sneakers were the only two shoes options on my trip anyway, yay! Cold and fun were the two words that guided me to make up the combo I transformed from one look into another depending on the temperature and mood.
I found the perfect pair of grey leggings, but it has to be ordered online from far away; until then, however, the grey leggings bought on the day before the flight from Zara kids (adults seem not want/need grey, simple leggings anymore; I’d been looking everywhere) did the work. The leggings were soft, grey (duh!), almost just as the ones about to be ordered. Grey? To naturally blend into the combo. I’ve always somehow liked grey leggings. A certain type of grey.
They’re made from a very fine cottony mix and they don’t just blend in with the dress through airports and planes, but also with the sweat I feel like home in no matter where. Home, party, same. It is All Saints and was purchased on a holiday at my brother’s. I wear it with love and, most of the times, wear it just out of love. It’s not only made from an interesting type of cotton, but it’s also a special shade of dark blue and it has a cut that is not unraveled from the start, but once disclosed loved forever. It is that type of thing.
Just like the coloured hearts around my neck are. Or the watch – Optimef – made by dear friends of mine, with its limited – Summer Well – edition strap which, from the moment it touched my hand, it and I, we both knew it is coming with me to Bali. I am still gravitating outfits around it.
I left home wearing the dress and sneakers.
On the first plane, the leggings got underneath and the sweat on top of the dress; we only flew for 5 hours and got to Doha where someone was waiting for us. The bronze Untitled Lamp Bear, by the Swiss artist Urs Fischer.
On the second plane, I took off the dress from under the sweat and stayed in leggings and sweat. Mmm… We flew for about 11 hours.
Just before landing in Bali, the dress had got under the sweat again only before the sweat went to sleep into the backpack with the leggings. Awwm.
The way back was the same. Airports, planes and clothes.