The Airport Is a Sacred Space. It Should Also Be a Silent One

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Last week, I found myself in Paris, thanks to a last-minute invitation to see the FW26 Loewe show. The journey began where most of the great ones do, at John F. Kennedy International Airport. It was what we affectionately refer to as a “fashion flight,” a late-night long haul populated by people in “the business.” The lounge was full of chic women in their Delta One best—big Bottega bags stuffed with snacks and small Chanel bags, AirPods Max around their necks, dinged-up Rimowas stuffed to the gills. There was a guy who had on Frye boots, which seemed like a big commitment for an overnight flight. But that is not my runway to walk.

I ran into my friend Hari Nef, who looked sleep-ready chic in a grey sweatsuit. We had a nice chat before I found my corner in the Air France lounge and settled in for some bottled water and a quick 30 minutes of Love is Blind before boarding. Hari is someone I would call a real friend. We socialize, we catch up, we text. It was a pleasure to see her at the airport and later at the Loewe show at the Château de Vincennes, just outside Paris. She met Oscar-winning actress Sissy Spacek, who was sitting front row, and I didn’t, but that’s for another column.

The airport, especially when you are traveling alone, is a sacred space. You are in a fantasy when traveling from place to place. Sometimes you see someone you don’t want to talk to, someone who would, however unintentionally, burst that sacred bubble. The situation is delicate, people are off guard, flustered, frustrated, or simply distracted. The airport is very public yet fully anonymous.

It reminded me of an acquaintance of mine who shoots for this very magazine. He is friendly and super cool. We have been on several blue-eye 7 a.m. Delta flights from JFK to LAX, and we never speak to or acknowledge one another. We will see each other at the function we are both flying in for and have a quick chat. It’s perfect. There is a mutual respect and understanding that nothing needs to be communicated at 6:45 a.m. when we are both bleary-eyed and trying to fit our belongings into the overhead bin before coffee has been served. It’s not the time for small talk or even a quick hello. Both of us know not to break the assumed no-contact contract.

Many factors combine to create a good traveler. Efficiency, manners, refusing the in-flight food except under rare extenuating circumstances, never listening to music without headphones, not going to the bathroom barefoot, and being polite to airline staff. But airport run-in etiquette belongs on that same list. A midday flight from NYC to Nashville, and you see an old co-worker at the gate waiting to board? Sure, have a pleasant catch-up while you wait. A run-in with a long-lost friend at the airport in Sydney, thousands of miles away from home, has to be celebrated with a hug and a few words. What a coincidence! But please move carefully, and with intention. Understand the social cues, consider the outcome, and go forward accordingly. Spot someone you only vaguely know, before 7 a.m.? Keep it moving. No one wants to talk, and nothing good is going to come from it. Put on your noise-cancelling headphones, fire up some white noise, and pull out a book. This ain’t the time for a chat.