Let me tell you what happens when you walk through an airport in a suit.
People notice. Gate agents smile a little differently. Flight attendants tend to remember you. And every now and then, someone will stop you and say — with genuine curiosity — “Why are you wearing a suit to fly?”
The answer is simple, and it has nothing to do with impressing anyone.
I wear a suit because it’s who I am.
A Different Era of Travel
There was a time — not so long ago — when flying was an occasion. People dressed for it. Men wore jackets and ties. Women wore dresses. You got on an airplane the way you’d go to a nice dinner or a special event, because that’s essentially what it was. Air travel was remarkable, and people treated it that way.
Somewhere along the way, that changed. Flying became routine, then utilitarian, then — for many travelers — something to simply endure. The clothes followed suit, so to speak. Today the average airport terminal looks like a casual Friday sprinkled with a pajama party and an athlete convention. Sweatpants, leggings, track suits, flip flops, pajamas — I’ve seen it all, and I hold no judgment toward any of it. Comfort is a legitimate priority, and everyone has the right to travel however they please.
But I’ve never been able to let go of the idea that getting on an airplane and truly flying somewhere — crossing time zones and oceans and borders — is worth dressing for. Not for anyone else. For myself.
43 Years of Showing Up in Uniform
I spent 43 years serving my country — 37 as a U.S. Army Soldier and 6 as an Army civilian attorney. For most of that time, what I wore to work was not a personal choice. The uniform was the uniform. It represented something larger than the individual wearing it.
When I retired in 2022, I had spent four decades understanding what it means to present yourself with intention. To show up looking like you take the occasion seriously. To carry yourself in a way that communicates respect for the people around you, and for yourself.
I didn’t leave that behind when I hung up the uniform. I just changed the uniform to a suit and tie.
A well-fitted suit, a crisp shirt, a good tie. Suspenders, which have become something of a signature. And cowboy boots, because comfort matters and these are mine. It is not a costume. It is simply how I present myself to the world when I travel. I like to think I’m bringing style back to air travel. Psychologists have noted that how you dress often affects how to feel about yourself.
Why a Suit, Specifically
People sometimes assume I’m traveling for business when they see me in a suit at the airport. I’m usually not, unless I’m attending a conference. I’m retired. I travel for the pure joy of it, for the experience, for the destinations, for Buddy perched on the tray table beside me.
The suit isn’t about business. It’s about how I feel.
When I’m dressed well, I feel sharp. I feel confident. I feel ready for whatever the day brings — a delayed connection, a customs queue, an unexpected conversation with a stranger who turns out to be fascinating. A suit is not armor exactly, but it’s close. It puts me in the right frame of mind for travel, which at its best requires patience, adaptability, and a certain quiet confidence.
There’s also something to be said for the practical side. A suit travels well when you know how to care for it. I fly in mine rather than packing it, which means it never gets crumpled in a suitcase. I carry a portable travel steamer for anything that needs attention on arrival. I iron my shirts — French cuffs and all — before I leave the hotel room. The suit always looks the way it should.
And honestly? When you’re dressed well at an airport, people treat you slightly better. Not dramatically, not unfairly — just slightly. Gate agents tend to be a little more helpful. Check-in interactions are a little warmer. It costs nothing and changes the energy of the entire travel day in subtle but real ways.
What I Am Not Saying
I want to be clear about something, because this is important to me.
I am not saying you should wear a suit to fly. I am not saying that how you dress reflects your character, your intelligence, or your worth as a traveler. I am not looking down the terminal at the person in sweatpants and thinking less of them.
Travel is for everyone. The whole point of this site is to help people travel more, travel better, and travel with confidence — regardless of who they are, what they look like, or what they’re wearing when they board. A retiree in comfortable shoes seeing Portugal for the first time is having exactly as meaningful a travel experience as I am in my suit. Probably more meaningful, because it’s their first time.
Wear what makes you comfortable. Wear what makes you feel like yourself. Wear what allows you to be present and enjoy the journey. If that’s a suit, wonderful. If that’s jeans and a sweater or a Yoga outfit, equally wonderful. If that’s something I might personally find surprising — well, Buddy has sat in the Chapel of Bones in Portugal and he didn’t judge anyone either. You do you.
Buddy’s Role in All of This
I should mention that Buddy — my small stuffed monkey, Iraq veteran, and co-pilot on every flight — has never once commented on my wardrobe.
He has, however, collected three miniature Delta wings from flight attendants who adored him, posed for photographs with pilots in the flight deck, and charmed his way into airport lounges from Paris to Pensacola. He does all of this without a suit, which I suppose proves that presence and personality matter more than clothing after all.
But he does always sit next to me. And I am always in a suit.
The Real Reason
Here is the truth, stripped of everything else.
I spent 43 years showing up. Showing up meant being present, being prepared, and looking the part. I took pride in that. I still do.
Travel, for me, is a continuation of that same spirit. Every trip is a mission of a different kind — a chance to go somewhere new, learn something, experience something, come back changed in some small way. I dress for that mission the same way I dressed for the others.
And when I sit down in that seat — suit pressed, boots polished, Buddy in the seat beside me — I feel exactly like myself. Ready for wherever we’re going next.
That, in the end, is the only reason that matters.
Buddy and Jordan
What do you wear when you travel? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below. And if you’re planning your next trip, join our Newsletter for weekly travel advice, destination guides, and the occasional dispatch from Buddy.