Good golly, Miss Molly
I AM HANGING a coach passenger’s garment bag in the first class coat closet. It is summer and we do not have any coats to hang in the closet, just a couple of suit jackets belonging to a few first class passengers, businessmen flying between meetings, appointments, conferences. There is plenty of room to hang a rather full, slightly bulky bag. This particular piece of carry-on luggage belongs to a famous singer. This bag belongs to Little Richard.
Little Richard takes the window seat in the bulkhead, row 10. Yes, he is in the first row of coach, just behind first class, much to my horror. “Why isn’t he in first class?” I furtively ask the gate agent. She tells me there was an aircraft swap, the 757 originally scheduled for this flight changed to our much smaller airplane. Sixteen passengers lost their first class seats, and unfortunately, Little Richard was one of them. His companion takes the middle seat next to him.
Celebrities always travel with an assistant, a fixer, someone who takes care of them and handles their details. Someone who paves their way, smooths the bumps on their rocky road to fame. Occasionally famous people dismissively won’t even speak to us, preferring to tell their assistant to order a drink, a snack, a meal, rather than address the flight attendants directly. Little Richard is not one of these, though he is not particularly engaging. I can tell he is not happy being relegated to a coach seat.
Back in the galley, my flight attendant friend Michelle and I are whispering about him. Little Richard is such an icon, has had such a long and illustrious career. He looks just like the photos we have seen through the years, lots of makeup on his face, defining his eyes, his hair encircling his head like a fluffy black corona.
“Let’s look at his clothes!” Michelle suggests mischievously. On this aircraft configuration, the coat closet is in the galley area. No one can see it but us. Michelle opens the door and quietly unzips Little Richard’s garment bag.
Inside are clothes made out of the most beautiful, luxurious fabrics, studded with spangles and sparkling with rhinestones. We ooh and aah, gently caress the sumptuous material, admire the rich colors. One suit is pale yellow, sewn from damask woven in alternating one-inch stripes, shiny and matte, satin and smooth. The impeccable details and meticulous workmanship are very impressive. Little Richard’s clothing has obviously been crafted by a master tailor.
We zip up the garment bag and close the closet door.