Fly Girl
How to Become an Airline Stewardess
THE HISTORY AND THE CULTURE OF BEING AN AIRLINE stewardess that I stepped into was a combination of women fighting for equal pay , fair work rules , and respect for their jobs as flight attendants while those same women were being portrayed as sex symbols , used to dress sexy , act demure , and lure businessmen onto airlines . It seemed , in 1977 , to pretty much capture the role of women in general .
During winter break from college during my senior year in 1977 , my parents sat me down at the kitchen table and asked me what exactly English majors did once they graduated . My parents were mostly hands-off . Or maybe the ambition and work ethic I had shown since I was a kid convinced them I would do just fine . Not only was I the one with my hand always in the air to be called on with the right answer ; the one who wrote plays and forced classmates to perform in them ; who edited the yearbook and school newspaper , starred in drama club plays , and got straight A ’ s , I worked as a Marsha Jordan Girl ; was the Rhode Island teen rep to Seventeen , sending monthly dispatches on fashion and trends in my school — “ Everyone is wearing Dr . Scholl ’ s sandals now that the weather is warm . Red is the most popular color !” “ Astrology is really a hot topic at West Warwick High School !” — and a Bonne Bell Girl , sitting in the mall demonstrating how Ten-O-Six Lotion helped your complexion or making lipstick from scratch by melting special wax and adding dyes to it . I fought for more relevant English classes . I fought for recycling . I fought for the end of the Vietnam War . My parents sat back and watched , dazed and proud , at fashion shows and school plays and awards ceremonies .
When I left for college in 1974 , I wanted to major in English so I could learn how to write novels . After my meeting with Mr . Stone back when I was twelve , I had eventually returned to my original plan to become a stewardess and then a writer . Run with the bulls ! Jump naked into fountains ! Shop on Carnaby Street ! Becoming a flight attendant — by then they were no longer called stewardesses because of the increase of men in the job — would offer me adventure , the chance to travel for free , glamour and excitement , all while I hatched plots and characters for my novels . But my father tried to convince me to major in business , a new frontier for women . “ If you ’ re a business major , you ’ ll be able to write your own ticket ,” Dad said . What I didn ’ t tell him was that I was interested in a different kind of ticket , one that gave me unlimited flights on 747s heading everywhere in the world .
That December day that my parents asked me what I intended to do with my BA in English , my mother expected me to announce that I would become an English teacher . To her , that was a very good job — summers off , benefits , home by three or four in the afternoon . Besides , why else would someone major in English ? My father probably still held out hope that I would enter the business world . I knew plenty of young women who majored in the mysterious new field of marketing . They had taken special classes on how to write a résumé and they ’ d bought suits — knee-length skirts and matching jackets with floppy bow ties — for interviews with banks and insurance companies and IBM , the dream place to land a job back then . Dad frequently dropped tidbits about businesses that were hiring managers . “ And they want women !” he always added . Even English majors . “ I want to be a flight attendant ,” I told my parents . They looked at each other . They looked at me . Then my father asked , “ If you ’ re a flight attendant , do we get free tickets ?” “ I think so ,” I said . “ Sounds like a good plan ,” Dad said . Like me , he had wanderlust . He told me to get in the car . We were going to Logan Airport to pick up applications .
Dad and I drove the hour to Boston and I went from terminal to terminal at Logan requesting flight-attendant applications at the ticket counters , where there seemed to be an endless supply , and he idled in the car curbside . By the time we were back home , I had a big stack of applications . Alleghany , American , United , Eastern , National , Northwest , Delta , Republic , Air New England , and many more that I no longer remember . Only two really mattered to me . I didn ’ t want to fly around the Ohio Valley or between Washington , DC , and Boston . I wanted to see the world , and in 1977 only two airlines flew internationally : Pan Am and TWA . True , Delta had taken me to Bermuda , and Eastern had flown me
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