Airline seat for mink coat
Radha Chadha -
Saturday, March 07, 2009 8:21 PM
She walked down the aisle resplendent in a long mink coat, the fur rippling gently like grass in a light breeze. She was a tall, big-boned woman – Ukranian, I learnt along the way – and she squeezed herself in the row behind me. The plane was packed – we were traveling economy – and overhead storage space was severely short, crammed full with bags and bulky winter coats. (None mink, I might add, more like Gap puffer with faux fur trimmings at best.) We settled in for the 6-hour flight from Portland to New York.
I guess I pulled the equivalent of the winning number in a lottery – in this sardines-in-a-cabin scenario, the seat next to me remained happily empty. I smiled and stretched my elbows. And that’s when I felt the tap on my shoulder. Could I keep the mink coat on the empty seat? The coat was carefully folded inside out into a large bundle, and there it sat next to me, safely seat-belted for take-off. My maiden flight alongside a mink.
Just as the drinks trolley came out, the flight turned bumpy. I worried for the precious creature (well, okay, amalgamation of several dead ones) next to me, and decided to make space in the overhead bin. I pulled out my own bag and stuffed it under the seat, and picked up the coat to replace it. Stupid move. The Ukranian lady threw a hissy fit – arms flailing, gulping air, she objected strenuously in a language I couldn’t understand. She finally grabbed the coat in a huff, and sat down hugging it protectively in her lap. I offered the seat again for the mink, but she would have none of it. Moral of the story: Better to be hot and bothered under a pile of mink all the way to New York than suffer the ignominy of binning it overhead.
The aircraft, of course, is a fascinating laboratory to observe human behavior, and with the luxury culture spreading rapidly to the masses, you get some piquant scenes onboard that demonstrate just how precious these objects are, and to what lengths people will go to protect them.
Scene 2. This time I am on a Cathay Pacific flight from Hong Kong to New Delhi, spacious business class cabin, the flight is full of Indians heading home. A breathtakingly beautiful fashionista strolls in and places her breathtakingly beautiful Bottega Veneta bag in the overhead compartment. There is room enough to accommodate several more bags, but our hi-so lady slams the cover shut, and there it lies – slim and flat – in solitary splendor. (Estimated cost of the bag, upwards of US$ 5000.) A harried businesswoman appears in the adjacent seat, opens the same bin, plonks her cheap-and-cheerful no-name handbag on top of the Bottega.
“Get that bag off mine, this minute,” says our fashionista, teeth clenched. No-name handbag lady can’t see what the fuss is about and dares to hold her ground. Silly move. Fashionista switches gear, throws sophistication and good manners out of the window, and goes into Kali-on-rampage mode. Entertaining verbal catfight ensues. No-name loses, moves her bag out. Moral of the story: Better arm yourself with a Birkin, preferably croc/snake, before taking on a Bottega?
Scene 3. My all time favorite luxury-onboard-gone-overboard incident is the Cathay flight from Hong Kong to Tokyo. Unfortunately, I didn’t see it first hand, but its whacky storyline caught the media attention with headlines like “Gucci bag delays flight” and “Armed police called in for Gucci bag”. The facts: Passenger with Gucci bag refuses to stow it in the overhead locker or underneath the seat. Cathay staff insist she does because of safety regulations. Lady refuses steadfastly. Hour long impasse. Captain finally calls armed police to escort lady off the plane. She leaves, clutching Gucci bag, amid clapping from other passengers, relieved the plane can now take off.
Moral of the story: Perhaps airlines need to create storage space designated for luxury brands, and have the airhostesses tissue-wrap the precious items first.
And while they are at it, they may as well tissue-wrap the precious egos too.