I went heavy at Nando’s and am currently typing this from my plane seat with my top button of my jeans undone because lol got a belly full of chips, chicken and Diet Coke.
I’m sitting next to the plane toilet which is jolly hoot because not only can everyone see said flies undone (HI EVERYONE ELSE GOING TO MALAGA) but also because I keep catching some really handsome whiffs in the air. So that’s nice.
I’m hoping to flag down an air stewardess for a bottle of water and a new tube of Benefit’s Rollerlash before we land in about 90 minutes.
So, in the scheme of being reactive and getting lots of little posts out for you internet boos, I thought I’d throw together a quick short haul airport outfit post for ya. In case you’re swanning off to a Mediterranean beach anytime soon and are like HOW DO I LOOK SEMI CUTE WHILST STUFFED INTO A PLANE CHAIR.
So yeah, these snaps were shot just outside gate 35 at Gatwick’s South Terminal by my travel pal for the weekend, Ellie.
We’ve been together for about four hours and have already discussed sanitary towels, bloggers who buy Insta followers and well, what to wear for dinner tonight because hashtag two little basic bitches in a pod.
Anyway, this outfit and those undone jeans.
It’s rare that I’ll wear denim to travel in, but considering this is such a short flight (two hours, twenty minutes to be precise) and it’s that awkward temperature in the UK where I can’t get away with bare legs, I thought FUCK IT LET’S GO CRAZY.
These are my new Mom jeans from Topshop and I like them, I like that my bum crack isn’t trying to snake its way out and I like the way the petite length sit just above my ankle.
So I recommend them if like me, your legs are stumpier than a sausage dog and you are just so bloomin’ over your jeans rolling down and HI UNDERWEAR, like mate, I’m not in year 10 anymore, it’s not hip and happening for my thong waist band to be on show.
Admittedly I stuck to the classics for the rest of my outfit – a loose t-shirt from H&M that used to belong to Chris but ahem, now sits firmly in my t-shirt drawer, a pair of trainers and a good ol’ biker jacket.
I toyed with bare toes but mate, that plane air con can be brutal and I don’t have to take these Adidas baes off to get through security. Which is always an added bonus.
And then I added in a neckerchief because duh, it’s me and don’t you wish these had been cool in the noughties so we could have hidden our hickies? That would have saved so many disapproving looks like why you letting boys suck your neck.
Oh and a bag. Like, the biggest bag (from Armani Exchange) I could find so that I could cram in this laptop and three different snacks from Pret.
And that’s me.
And on that note, I think it might be time to brave the toilet because those three Diet Coke refills from Nando’s are pressing into my organs.
BYE. SEE YOU IN SPAIN.
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