Melissa Hoyer
Once upon a time, flying was an event. Not a ball gown moment but at least it included presentable humans in public moments. These days? Well, somewhere between boarding group chaos and neck pillow couture, we have collectively decided that the plane is now an extension of the couch.
Let’s be clear: nobody is asking for three-piece suits, Dior ‘New Look’ skirts or stilettos at 35,000 feet. We are not resurrecting Mad Men energy. But could we meet somewhere in the middle? Somewhere between “airport chic” and “I rolled out of bed and emotionally gave up”?
The rise of athleisure has blurred the line between comfort and complete sartorial surrender. Leggings, hoodies, slides, socks-and-sandals hybrids – all technically functional – but often worn with the enthusiasm of someone who has accepted defeat before gate allocation. Comfort has become king, and polish has been quietly escorted out via the emergency exit.
There’s also the “wellness comfort” movement. Soft fabrics, oversized silhouettes, breathable everything. And honestly? I get it. Long-haul flights demand kindness to your circulation and spine. But comfort does not require visual chaos. Tailored track pants exist. Elevated knit sets exist. Clean sneakers exist. Neutral and simple layers exist.
Social media has also played a role. Airport outfit culture used to be aspirational: oversized sunglasses, chic trench coats, that effortless “I travel well” vibe. Now it’s either hyper-styled influencer theatre or aggressively unbothered realism. Somewhere along the way, everyday travellers decided opting out entirely was the easiest lane.
What’s missing isn’t formality, its intention. The idea that how you present yourself in public spaces still matters a little. That airports are global meeting points. First impressions. Shared environments. You don’t need couture. You just need cohesion: clothes that fit, look clean, feel intentional.
Because here’s the quiet truth: when you dress slightly better, you feel slightly better. You move differently. You carry yourself differently. You arrive with energy instead of exhaustion-before-departure.
Travel should still feel like going somewhere. Not just physically but emotionally, visually, energetically. A little polish isn’t about impressing strangers. It’s about respecting the moment. Respecting yourself. Respecting the fact that leaving the house is still, in some small way, an occasion.
So no, we’re not bringing back hats and gloves. But maybe we can retire the “just survived laundry day” aesthetic. A cool jacket. A proper and clean shoe (see ya thongs!). A coordinated set. A hint of effort.
Comfort is divine, obviously. I enjoy elasticised waistbands as much as the next modern woman. But somewhere between “relaxed” and “rolled straight out of bed” we’ve lost the plot. A brushed brow, a clean sneaker, a jacket with structure -.none of it requires a trust fund or a stylist. Just a smidge of effort. Because honestly? Looking pulled together is still free.
The plane may be the transport, but the journey is still part of the story. . .
