English Version | Fashion 101: Airport Chic

Gone are the days when a trip to the airport was just a mandatory stop on the way to other destinations. Between trips around the world and weekend getaways, this space we occasionally share with strangers from the four corners of the planet has become the most unlikely catwalk of all, where the so-called “airport look” reigns.

“Unlikely” might not be the best term to describe it. Thinking objectively about this, the very definition of catwalk as a platform where one walks or parades, quickly applies to any sidewalk, street, or space where one or more can gather in the name of a good look. That being said, the surprising aspect of it is not necessarily connected with the more or less natural human tendency to express states of mind through what we wear — a premise we can take for granted —, but with the particularities in the context of this space, namely the time we are obliged to spend in it. It shouldn't be too hard to recall the feelings of boredom and premature tiredness that we so often associate with an airport, especially when it comes to the hoop-jumping one must indulge during those few hours prior to take-off. Objectively, three hours of erratic wandering between the magazine kiosk and the duty-free does not appeal to anyone's motivation to build anything remotely resembling an outfit one can be proud of. Considering the endless queues, the cold sweats at the luggage drop-off (which we know perfectly well to be in overweight), security controls so meticulous that you find yourself questioning whether or not you might be trying to traffic drugs or nuclear weapons by mistake, and the frantic search for the boarding gate which is naturally three hundred kilometers away, only reachable by train, two buses and a rowing boat... The recurring result? A blend of tracksuits, leggings, and any and all items we were forced to remove from our suitcase at great cost, in the middle of the check-in line, amid disapproving looks from prying eyes — cast the first stone… Nonetheless, the sole nuance of this scenario is that what could be previously considered as a mere preamble for what awaits us on the other side of an airplane-mode intermission, evolved to become a destination in itself, and with that wait, expectation, and exposure, a new sense of responsibility (at a sartorial level, of course) emerged. 

Thinking about what to wear to the airport is, first and foremost, considering what kind of traveler we really are (or want to be). The pragmatic traveler, who prioritizes the practicality of clothing above any other feature? The cautious traveler, who, after going through the weather forecast with a fine-tooth comb, chooses what to wear in perfect accordance with the destination? The experienced jet setter, whose passport wallet, luggage, backpack, and cap, are invariably always the same color? Or maybe a comfort lover, for whom traveling in jeans would be not just torturous, but inconceivable? The options are as limitless as the number of air routes across the globe. Regardless of the oscillations that we may occasionally experience between one or another aesthetic, there is one fundamental concern that prevails: the desire to be comfortable, but cool. The plot thickens. The evolution of our collective approach to what we’ve learned to call airport chic is closely linked to the hypersensitivity we have been developing about others' perception of the way we present ourselves, from the moment we walk through the airport gates to the moment we turn the key in our home’s front door. How aware one is of this perception is a direct product of the value we each attribute to our own image in this context, and its implications multiply.

Naturally, and as is the case in so many other spheres of human behavior, it would not be possible to think about all these things without taking a closer look at the effects of social media and celebrity culture in this instance. A quick Google search with the title “airport look” shows no less than a billion results in 0.41 seconds. At this point in my journalistic research, I dare say that these are divided into two main subgroups: suggestions from bloggers and experienced travelers (or not), and formulas inspired by the looks of hundreds of celebrities, captured by paparazzi flashes in airport corridors around the world. I wouldn't dare to place the present matter on the same level of importance as any other topic that might populate the newspapers of the day, but it is still curious to examine the relevance of the topic when the ink spent on all the articles and columns that address it has such direct  consequences in our consumption habits. It is simply not possible to count the amount of online pages, stores, and products, entirely dedicated to the construction of this almost mythological look that haunts us on the eve of any trip.That feeling of sheer panic due to not having defined in advance the winning combination of accessories, gadgets and clothing that in some way can differentiate us from our other traveling companions, leads to a sense of having an unfulfilled need — cue the unbridled search for the latest hit in multipurpose cabin bags, state-of-the-art sound-insulating headphones, and a deep dive into Instagram's “explore” tab. We quickly become the perfect victims for the endless collaborations between travel brands and influencers, edits inspired by the unlikely combinations seen in this or that film actress, and the promotion of all kinds of beauty and skincare products that in one way or another help complete the ensemble at twenty thousand feet. And speaking of influence and social media, how many videos, tutorials, and try-ons have we watched routinely while thirsty for inspiration from those for whom a transatlantic flight is as normal as a cab ride on a Tuesday? Here lies one of the cruxes of the matter: the true airport chic style is inversely proportional to the effort we are supposed to have dedicated to its construction — the problem is that this apparent relaxation can be a lot, a lot of work, and anyone who says otherwise is lying.

Traveling, in module, denotes a share of incognito, clandestine, some distance from who we are in the daily life of our city or country. The luxury of not being so easily recognized in another place invites temptation from one of two extremes: complete abandonment, or the pleasure of experimentation — a duality that applies to the wide spectrum of our conduct on the road, including clothing choices. In fact, it's the perfect excuse to wear pieces that we would never wear on a day-to-day basis, or to repeat an outfit that we’ve reused one too many times at the office. To the same extent that it is part of human nature to favor a sense of attachment to whatever the majority is doing, to create points of contact with those around us, and establish integration mechanisms to make us feel accepted, there is also an intrinsic desire for differentiation, prominence and expression of identity through our own notion of individualism. With the trivialization of travel and mass movement between cities, countries, and continents, there is a counter-reaction that can translate either into a complete immersion in the group effect, or in the incessant search for the other person's perception that we are not just another pawn of globalization , but a true MVP, whose capital in air miles should provide, at the very least, a notoriety. From one second to the next, the air that circulates within the walls of an airport transforms the fast-track crossings into a bustling New York avenue, the overcrowded café into a VIP lounge, the half-dozen stores designed for unnecessary expenses motivated by the extreme boredom of the crowd in an impromptu Saint-Honoré. As far one can tell, the dark glasses we display (even indoors, of course), hide the face of a famous business person, a ferocious political animal, a lost Jenner sister, perhaps... and all interactions feed into the potential of this illusion—and who is to blame? Two words: big five.

It may seem unfair to blame the original five supermodels for the attitudes and delusions of entire generations addicted to a celebrity-obsessed culture. However, it would be equally reckless to disregard the influence of the 1990s, the undisputed reign of the supers, and the status of “star” on the way how we assess what is in or out (on and off the red runway). Before the age of filters and FaceApps, Naomi Campbell, Claudia Schiffer, Cindy Crawford, Christy Turlington and Linda Evangelista were five of the most famous and recognized women on the planet. The perfect measurements and million dollar faces that have given them decades of success as muses of photographers, brands, designers, and crowds, have elevated the definition of “model” to such an extent that the very nomenclature of the profession no longer applies. The big five weren't just models, they were superstars — and wherever they went, they left a trail of admiration not just for their exceptional beauty, but because every aspect of their lifestyle and daily lives — including traveling by plane — was regarded as na indisputable demonstration of pure style. These supermodels opened the door to a perception of celebrity and stardom only matched by the reach of Lady Diana, Grace Kelly, and Jackie O'. When the barriers of one industry, profession or title are not able to contain the power of being considered an icon on a universal scale, there is what we can call a modern “Midas touch” phenomenon, in which every banality, routine, or most insignificant detail and attitude becomes an object of scrutiny. Going out to dinner implies an emergency meeting with the styling team, going to the supermarket is a playground for the tabloids, and traveling by plane denotes the survival past the minefield that is figuring what to wear to the airport. Julia Roberts in jeans and a t-shirt, the neutral tones of Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, Irina Shayk’s silk pajamas, the colorful coats of Gigi Hadid, Victoria Beckham and her contrasting combinations, Kendall Jenner’s biker shorts... While we await a formula that allows us to fast-track the subject, this is a mood board constantly under construction.

Translated from the original on our The Voyage Issue, from June 2023.Full credits and stories on the print version.