Airport Style
For those of you wondering why I haven't posted much lately, I was out of town last week. The Significant Other took me to San Francisco for my birthday, and we had a blast exploring the city, getting out in Northern California and eating our weight in Italian food. We also happened to visit during one of the coldest weeks San Francisco has experienced in the last 15 years. (I think the weather is part of a family curse. Ten years ago, when we went to Melbourne, Australia, the weather was also unseasonably cold and wet. That weather was so bad, I hear no one has experienced it since.) Thanks to that weather, I also brought home a little cold in addition to my new hat, gloves and San Francisco hoodie.
As excited as I was about our trip, I also knew that to get to San Francisco, I'd have to engage in one of my least favorite activities -- flying.
When it comes to dressing for a flight, I try to wear clothes that are comfortable, but I also put on my bigger items so that I can save space in my luggage for later purchases. This means that instead of wearing the FAA-recommended rubber-soled shoes (because I do know these things), I tend to fly in boots, a long sweater and my heaviest coat (winter only, of course).
(My sister would say that this outfit has nothing to do with how much I have to pack. I have a style that she has often referred to as "celebrity at the airport." I think this has to do with my love of big boots and big sunglasses with little attention to anything else -- hairstyle, makeup and showering included -- but I could be wrong.)
Despite the fact that I was beyond layered, I thought I ended up looking pretty cute. I just had no idea how much my wardrobe choices would stand out from the other passengers.
At the Birmingham airport, it seems that you have to travel in your SEC team colors of choice. If you are not displaying your loyalty to one college football franchise or other, you just don't fit in. I saw more Alabama and Auburn sweatshirts and tees than I've seen outside a stadium in years.
At the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport (our stopover), women wore pants with elastic waists (in-flight comfort?) while men wore Vikings paraphernalia and jerseys. Seriously, I saw one guy not wearing Vikings merchandise and he made sure to display his book -- The Vikings Reader by Armand Peterson -- with such gusto that I can only assume he was worried about being assaulted by the other fans if he didn't make his feelings known.
In San Francisco, everyone had a baby strapped to them, and that's one accessory I'm nowhere close to having.
Long story short -- and the real point to this story -- after all of the thought I put into my outfit, not a single person complimented my new brown, slouchy boots. Not a single one.