I know I'm getting old, my passport reminds me, as does my doctor.
But I have always thought I was quite young at heart and of mind, until a recent trip to Auckland when I heard my mother's voice ringing inside my head.
You see I had these thoughts, judgmentalperhaps, about what people were wearing. If you manage to look up from your phone at airports, it's really interesting.
You see people travelling with young children and thank your lucky stars those days are kind of over. Those poor families who still have to lug around children, buggies and car seats . . . you are amazing, and I feel for you, I've been there.
But most people in that situation are dressed for all eventualities. They wear comfy clothes with lots of pockets, soft-soled shoes, tote a nappy bag/handbag/everything but the kitchen sink bag. Perfect.
Those like me, who are travelling alone and only have ourselves to worry about, can step it up a notch. You can wear a wee heel or a nice boot, you can layer with a nice scarf, a longline jacket, a smart pair of jeans, you know the drill, the espadrille even.
This brings me to my "oh my God I'm getting old" moment. Spotting some travellers who have decided to wear not much at all, I hear my mother's voice saying "oh look at that, I don't want to see what they've had for breakfast!".
Don't get me wrong, these young women look great when they are standing still. But one thing we know about air travel is that the only time you are standing still is when you are waiting for your bag.
Otherwise it's all about the bend and stretch. You check in, you bend down to attach your bag-tag, you bend down to pick up your bag when you put it on the bag drop, you reach up to put your carry on in the overhead locker, you bend over to get into your seat, and so it goes on.
One young woman's skirt was so short it was nothing more than a belt! I guess it had the desired effect of getting most people to look up from their phones, so there's an upside to the backside!
