Let’s face it, America: sleek airport lounges are designed to both offer respite from the chaos of the terminal and to make you feel terrible about your tired, pathetic, underachieving self. It is a perplexing yet quasi-programmatic duality.
How else to explain that look of despair on so many travelers’ faces when they sidle by the Chase Sapphire Lounge by the Club at newly sparkling La Guardia or the American Express Centurion Lounge at Washington-Reagan and realize — or are made to realize — that the plastic in their wallet doesn’t carry quite enough weight to get them past the front door?
When you consider that many Americans are drowning in credit card debt, this does not at all come as a strange dichotomy. Disappointment is merely the flip side of the frenzy in hyper-branded airport lounges that cater to an anointed few while leaving most road warriors hungry and standing in line for an overpriced pretzel dog at Auntie Anne’s.
Also, though some corporate executives might not want to hear it, the culinary offerings for the general public in most major airports today are far more impressive than what the airport lounges offer.
Recently, at Dulles International, I forked over $60 to have a go at a United lounge that was so busy it made Grand Central look like a cemetery. The provisions were picked over and underwhelming.
So when on another day of heavy travel I weighed the merits of paying $75 to access a new club at San Francisco’s airport, I scanned the menu and refrained. A “Japanese scrambled egg” or “assorted bagels with toppings” may sound like hearty fare to some, but not to this usually famished sky cowboy.
As it happened, I finagled my way into the Virgin Atlantic Clubhouse at SFO, which was okay — with a better than average acoustic menu — though nothing like what the airline’s got at London Heathrow’s Terminal 3. Holding more promise is a new Virgin Atlantic lounge set to open at LAX in early 2025.
The overriding problem at most airport lounges today is one of overcrowding — after all, if everybody belongs to an elite club then it is no longer elite, is it? That’s why Delta, for example, restricts would-be airport lounge lizards from entering Delta Sky lounges until three hours before their flights.
Does that rule apply to the new, much-hyped Delta One Lounges? I have no idea, but when something as simple as a hopefully quiet place to hang your hat before boarding a connecting flight becomes such a tangle of eligibility requirements and rules, it is tempting to skip the lounge bazaar altogether and, yes, grab a hot dog.
Here’s something that only my Israeli friends can truly appreciate: a yen for collecting first class amenity kits, even when you’re seated on the wing. Time was, before Covid paranoia took the fun out of most aspects of modern travel, one could scoop up an unused amenity kit from the business or first class cabin before disembarking. My nifty collection of Air France and British Airways kits from the 1990s would be the envy of many an eBay cool hunter. Now, sadly, mirthless flight attendants guard the entrance to the business class section as if it were Fort Knox.
Furthermore, most airline’s in-flight amenity kits have in the name of “sustainability” been shrunk down to sad phantoms of their former, unapologetically synthetic glory. A kit from a British Airways flight last year was made from the kind of cheap felt 6-year-olds cut out in kindergarten arts and crafts hour. Finnair’s uses patterns from Marimekko, but they still feel flimsy.
So when I learned that Delta was partnering with Missoni on the amenity kits for Delta One, I thought this signaled a return to airborne glamor. The airline was kind enough to send me one and I can report that the case itself is a beauty: navy blue, emblazoned with the signature Missoni zigzag pattern, and sturdy enough for everyday use. Its contents, however, left me for the most part unamazed — though Italian Marvis toothpaste is a minty winner at any altitude.
Singapore Airlines, as it turns out, will not be outdone. Its first class passengers receive an amenity kit designed by Lalique. Each male and female amenity kit contains a fragrance, lip balm, and facial mist, packaged in a specially designed pouch, while the ladies’ kit also includes a hand cream. A unisex Kit features a room spray, soap bar, lip balm, and facial mist, contained within a specially designed pouch.
For added comfort, my Singaporean source tells me, First Class customers on flights of five hours or longer also get a stylish “sleeper suit” designed by Lalique, along with lounge slippers.
Travelers flying in business class on flights with a flight time of six hours and longer will upon request receive an amenity kit designed by the British perfume house Penhaligon’s. It contains a hand lotion, lip balm, and facial mist, “enclosed in a sleek purse.”