The Comfiest Long Haul Airport Outfit




ALOHA. I’m writing this from my pyjamas with a baby lil prosecco, mojito and McDonald’s cheeseburger hangover. The best kind, obvs.

How you guys doing? Sunburnt and overdosed on Pimms yet?

Anyway, so, alright, my four-hour flight to Lanzarote wasn’t long haul. I had enough time to devour a beef ready meal and a chocolate mousse and discuss whether or not I’d get lip fillers and then hey whaddya know there’s a volcano and we’re here.

But still, I’d 103% wear this long haul. I feel like I’m in pyjamas. After 26 years of accidentally wearing denim shorts that cut off my circulation and pretty sundresses that leave me with blue legs, I have finally nailed how to achieve comfort on an airplane. I *think* this is what heaven feels like.

Also, a few of you asked for this post. So if anyone’s like FFS why is this girl producing airport outfit posts every other week, I’m a bit soz but not that soz because it was requested and also it’s a good way to kill time when you’re waiting for your gate to board and OMG IS THAT A NEW MAC LIPSTICK IN DUTY FREE *spends all the money*.

I’ll start with the main queen bae of this outfit – the humble maxi cardigan. Oh sweet hubba hubba, why did I not wear this out of the house sooner? I’ve been treating it a bit like a house coat – y’know, something slightly smarter than a dressing gown to open the door to the ASOS delivery man in.

It’s ancient and from Primark but so ridiculously cosy. It doubled up as a blanket during the flight and meant I didn’t have to bring a jacket to awkwardly drag around the airport with me.

There’s probably something similar in Primark this year, but I’ve also found this cute one from ASOS and this one from New Look.

I paired that boo with these striped culottes (read: full length trousers on my stumpy lil frame) from Warehouse. I’m all about that elasticated waist band life on a flight because I tend to bloat up like a bag of crisps.

Sadly, these are also old. Cry face. But these are similar and hello how dreamy is this pair?

And then I polished off my lil combo with a plain black cami, a pair of flat black sandals (although wah, I did have to take these off for security – damn you cute little metal details), a fedora to hide my greasy barnet and almost-make-up-free face and a tote bag for snacks and enough electrical to open a branch of Cash Converters.

I hope I didn’t look too bag lady-esque but then y’know what? I kinda don’t care because you hit your mid twenties and suddenly all you want is chicken broth and hugs and blankets and a mug of English tea and warmth and that is this outfit.

Peace out chickas.

That’s a hideous word, I’m sorry.



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