I love a uniform, especially at the airport. Soft navy cady suit. Unlined blazer with outer patch pockets, whose importance cannot be overstated. Pull-on pants. White T-shirt. Compression socks. Oversize Hermès scarf. Nothing wrinkles. Everything layers. Every item has a job. I generally treat this outfit with the level of loyalty usually reserved for serious medication.
On a recent trip, however, for reasons still unclear to me, I decided to change things up. I wore silk pants, a white T-shirt, and threw a sweater over my shoulders. Casual. Fun. Potentially cool. Likely influenced by the women on my feed who glide through airports in tonal cashmere layers carrying nothing but a Rimowa and emotional stability. I spent the entire day annoyed.
