There are no rules...

At the airport, where all norms of civilised behaviour seem to collapse

 

I was on my way back from my New Year break when it first hit me. Arriving at the airport at the unearthly hour of 6 am to take a flight back to Delhi, sleepy and bleary-eyed (I never can sleep when I know I have to wake up early in the morning), all I wanted was a nice cup of coffee to jolt me into consciousness. But as I walked to the coffee counter at the lounge, I realized to my horror that some of my fellow passengers were indulging in an entirely different kind of tipple. Some of them were cracking open cans of beers, others were pouring themselves glasses of wine (or was it champagne?) while some others were hitting the vodka and gin. At 6 in the morning!

 

That’s when the realization hit me: when you are at the airport, anything goes. The normal rules and regulations of civilized behavior no longer exist, and everyone does pretty much what they want. So, if they want to anesthetize themselves with alcohol early in the morning before they get on to their flight (presumably so that they can knock themselves into senseless slumber once they are on board) then that’s what they will do, without thought of being judged (and being found wanting).

 

But untimely drinking is just the tip of the iceberg. If you have spent any time at all in airports recently – and I am sure that most of you have – then you will know that this dismissal of rules extends far beyond the choice of beverage. Most of us would not want to be caught dead in our pyjamas in a shopping mall or in a neighbourhood park. But I have lost count of the number of people who turn up to the check-in counter wearing what can only be described as sleepwear. I know that the days when air travel was a glamorous activity that people dressed up for are long over. But even so, this seems to be taking the “being comfy on the plane” thing a bit too far.

 

You could argue, though, that how you dress does not really impact your fellow travellers, except at a purely aesthetic level. But what does destroy the peace is the propensity of people to have loud conversations on Facetime without the benefit of earphones at the airport. And don’t even get me started on those people who watch videos on their phones and ipads or play games on top volume and look outraged when you suggest that they use their earphones. 

 

What accounts for this complete lack of civic sense? Do we feel that when we enter an airport, we are entering some sort of other-worldly portal between two cities, a place where the norms of civilized behavior can be thrown abroad without any fear of judgement or retribution? Do we believe that because we are surrounded by strangers and people who we will never see again in our lives, we are not required to present our best selves to them? Or is it that we feel so untethered from our daily lives at the airport, that we have come to believe that anything goes while we are there?

 

I really don’t know what the correct answer is. But I still think it’s worth asking the question.

 

Age cannot wither...

Nor should it come with onerous fashion rules to follow

I don’t know about you but I am getting tired of being told that there are rules about what you can and cannot do as you age. And, truth be told, the more I am told about such rules the more I long to break them — and more often than not, I do just that. 

• The longer your years, the shorter your hair should be, they advise. My response to that is: why? Why is it that women in their forties and above cannot grow their hair beyond their shoulders? Why should they all line up at the hair salon and get sensible bobs and page boy cuts? Is it because long hair is associated with sexual allure and women of a certain age are not supposed to have any? Are they supposed to resign themselves to being invisible as soon as their hair begins to thin and grey? Well, I’m sorry, but I am having none of that. In fact, after spending my entire youth with short hair I have now gone the other extreme in my middle age, growing my hair out till it skims my waist — and I love it. 
• Nora Ephron famously exhorted us to put on our bikinis and live in them while we were in our twenties because that was the decade in which we would look the best in them. Well, maybe that is true. But why would we wear bikinis to just look good for other people? We should wear them whenever the hell we want to because we feel good in them. Speaking for myself, it wasn’t till I was in my forties that I found the confidence to wear a bikini — because by then I didn’t care what anybody else thought of me or my body. And once I started I haven’t stopped and hopefully I will still be rocking a bikini by the time I am in my 70s (if I am lucky enough to live that long). 
• No miniskirts or short dresses for the middle-aged the adage goes. That rule has always made zero sense to me. For most women, their legs remain their best feature long after everything else has gone south. And to be asked to cover them up to fit with some code of middle-aged modesty makes no sense at all. So, if you want to wear shorts when you go for a walk or a mini-skirt when out for dinner go right ahead and do so. The fashion police can go take a hike.

The only rule when you are dressing as a woman or a certain age is that there are no rules. You have come too far to follow some cookie-cutter fashion advice spewed out by some glamour magazine. You have earned the right to dress as you like, without worrying about what the world thinks of your stylistic choices. It’s your life. And you can wear what you damn well please — and who cares if it pleases or displeases anyone else.