Have you ever sat in 30B on a Southwest Airlines flight and dreamt of the days when air travel was cool? Donât get me wrong, itâs remarkable that for a couple hundred bucks you can buy a seat on a giant metal tube and cruise at 35,000 feet to the city of your choice. But . . . it used to be way more cool.
I recently watched âThe Endless Summerâ (1966) for the 100th time, but the first time in years. The classic surf documentary, directed by Bruce Brown, captures the joy of surfing and search for the perfect wave. Itâs also a travel film. Protagonists, Mike Hynson and Robert August, take a truly global adventure to exotic locations including Senegal, Ghana, South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, Tahiti, and Hawaii. What struck me this watch wasnât just perfect uncrowded surf, but just how good everyone looked on the plane.
This is where the Golden Age of Air Travel comes in. In the 1950s and 60s, air travel wasnât just a means to an endâit was an event in and of itself. Airlines like Pan Am, TWA, and BOAC didnât just sell tickets; they sold an experience. Passengers dressed to impress: tailored suits, dresses, pearls, and polished shoes were the norm. Boarding an airplane felt more like showing up at the function.
The cabin interiors were equally elevated. Instead of cramped rows, fluorescent lights, and economy seating, planes featured spacious lounges, full dining services, and cocktail bars. Seats were wide, legroom was ample, and passenger comfort paramount. No disposables in sight; dinner came with fine china, silverware, and actual tablecloths. Lobster, filet mignon, and champagne werenât reserved for first classâthey were standard fare.
Flight attendants, better known as âstewardessesâ back then, were icons of style and professionalism. Airlines had strict guidelines for appearance and demeanor, selecting their crews to reflect the glamour of their brand. Training wasnât just about safety protocols; it included lessons in etiquette, grooming, and poise. They were ambassadors of an aspirational lifestyle, creating an aura of sophistication and charm.
But it wasnât just about aesthetics. The journey itself had a magical quality. Flying was still a novelty, and passengers werenât seasoned road warriors armed with noise-canceling headphones and medallion status. They gazed out the windows in awe, marveling at the view of clouds from above and the landscapes far below. The sense of wonder was palpable.
Hey, who really knows though? Maybe it wasnât that great. I wasnât even around to know. Iâll bet tickets were prohibitively expensive for normal folk, making flying a privilege reserved for the wealthy elite. Safety standards and technology were probably dicey. The hiring practices were arguably discriminatory. Smoking onboard was the norm, so the whole cabin likely smelled like a casino. And on-board movies, not to mention wi-fi, werenât even a dream yet.
So yeah, air travel today is accessible and convenient, but in becoming so, has lost any little bit of romanticism it once held. Do I want to wear a tie on a plane? No way. But Iâd like some filet mignon and leg room.
P.S.
Also spotted at 12:09 minutes into the âEndless Summerâ - A dirty Porsche 356 A parked at LAX. Maybe a â57? Comment below if you know.
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