I’m Eeeeeeating, On a Jet Plane…


I first flew to Paris on TWA flight 800, which some of you will remember had been thoughtfully renumbered sometime after it went into the sea off Long Island. I was traveling on Famous Designer‘s dime to Semaine du Cuir – the leather and suede exhibition where I was to meet vendors I’d known only via phone and fax (hi, I’m old), and hopefully pick up some new sources.

Before I left, I asked the designers for direction in choosing samples to bring back from the show. I will never forget their responses:

  • “I’m thinking…sherbet.”
  • “Bring me back beautiful things.”
  • “I love horsey leathers.”
  • “I want the Marc Jacobs jacket that’s at Barney’s.”

Fashion people aren’t like you and me.

But I digress. Continue reading

Tiny Children; Big, Scary Planes: Who CARES?

I flew Ryanair from Malaga to Marseilles a few weeks back, as you might remember. Ryainair’s seating policy – or rather, lack of one – takes you back to your youth, when how cool you were was determined by how quickly the seat next to you on the school but was taken.

So, there I was, nearly a full plane and still no one was sitting next to me in my row of three. (Gummy bear?) Continue reading