These days, air travel is anything but sexy. TSA pat-downs, inflatable neck pillows, reruns of CBS sitcoms—it can get pretty grim at 35,000 feet.
There was a time, however, when flying was both the literal and figurative height of sexiness. “The good old days,” Mark Gerchick calls them wryly in the January/February Atlantic. “When travelers were ‘mad men’ and flight attendants were ‘sexy stews,’ when the ‘sex sells seats’ mantra drove some carriers to adorn ‘trolley dollies’ in hot pants and go-go boots.”
While air travel ads printed in The Atlantic in those days were a little more… buttoned up (than, say, this 1972 Southwest Airlines commercial), it’s clear the “sexy skies” gimmick was an advertising boon. The campaigns were wildly misogynistic, hopelessly fantastical, and maybe a little bit racist. But sell seats they did, from Narita to O’Hare.
Photographer Dan Krauss recaps our visit to Burning Man 2013 on the AARP Instagram feed.
Mack and Kristina Reed, of Los Angeles, after renewing their vows in front of the Temple of Whollyness. They have been married for 19 years and have been to 10 burns, and have brought their children Cooper, left, and Miranda, right, 7 times.
Chief Constable Alexis Baugh and President Kevin Baugh, uh, conduct military exercises close to the Molossian border of the United States Monday, August 12, 2013 XXXVI. The Republic of Molossia is a tiny micronation run by fifty-one-year-old President Kevin Baugh and his family. The micronation is surrounded by Dayton, Nevada.