Somewhere between a wildly long delay at Midway and my third overpriced coffee, I started noticing the people around me. Pajamas. Sweat. Unkempt hair. Bodies slouched in defeat. The once-great “airport fit” had been reduced to something between laundry day and a hangover.
What happened? In the ’90s, people dressed to fly. Cool, sophisticated, maybe even a little aspirational. Now it feels like we’ve traded that for comfort at all costs… along with a slow erosion of self-respect, or at least respect for the people forced to share recycled cabin air with us.
