Here’s the good news: By the time you board the plane, you’re over the shock of running into Joan Smalls, Kendall Jenner, and Devon Windsor laughing and talking in the bathroom—and Adriana Lima taking a group selfie with Josephine Skriver and Lily Aldridge, and standing behind Elsa Hosk in line to get your bags and body scanned.
Here’s the bad news: You can’t just board the plane, like you really, really want to on this chilly November morning in New York City (on which you’ve decided to wear a not-particularly-warm fuzzy bomber). Instead, you stand on the tarmac and watch as the Angels get into formation. They line up in front of the most giant pink step-and-repeat known to man, spanning the entire side of the narrow staircase leading up to the Boeing 767. And then, something magic happens. All the models you were just shuffling through security with transform before your eyes into smiling, kiss-blowing, winking machines, and you’re really not over the shock of being with them at all.
When you do board, the jaw-dropping moments multiply. Like rabbits. Draped on each roomy, reclining leather seat is the softest Victoria’s Secret-brand blanket, plus a little Dopp Kitt with an electrical converter, two of Victoria’s Secrets newest lip products, and a coveted tube of Max Factor Epic Lash mascara (they aren’t available in the states, you’ll have to swing by Boots in London, as Stella Maxwell later informs me). A mimosa is brought to your seat directly. Which is great, because I really hate sitting down before someone hands me a mimosa.
But we’re all here to work. The models to model, reporters to report, and photographers to snap photos. So for the first three hours of the flight, we’re all buzzing about the cabin. The models who have agreed to interviews are ushered from their seats in the front half of the plane (angels in the front, earthlings in the back) to meet with media outlets for five-minute chats. Video, Snapchat, Boomerang, Instagram, cameras, microphones, booms, and iPhones are brandished, and the models do their thing: pose in their seats, strut in life vests near the galley, runway walk down the aisles.
Then there’s the food: A lot of it. For the models, and for you, if you want it. Berries, fresh-cut fruit, mini quiches, and Siggi’s organic greek yogurt for now (later, they’ll bring around skinny pop). The meals make average international flight food look about as appealing as a gas station hot dog. For breakfast, you can choose between an egg white omelet, steel cut Irish oatmeal, or whole wheat berry pancakes (I don’t see anyone, model or otherwise, order this). For lunch, filet mignon, kale and quinoa salad, or pan-seared lemon herb chicken breast are on deck. And, naturally, a tray of macarons that (notably) don’t taste like cardboard are passed around.
Finally, around the fourth hour of the 7.5 hour flight, the mayhem ceases, the security guards in pink ties finally sag down into their seats, and the lights in the cabin dim. Most people nap, and you might desperately want to, considering the fact that you got up at 5AM to make it to the airport on time. But I didn’t—and you wouldn’t, either—if you’d spoken to Taylor Hill earlier. She told me that it was smartest not to sleep on this flight, since we’d land at 10PM and would want to be tired enough to go straight to bed. “When you travel a lot, the most important thing is to stay hydrated and get lots of rest,” Hill says. “After so many years of doing it, you figure it out.” And if you take her advice, you will be totally, completely, exhausted. And ready for a solid night’s sleep in Paris.
Take a look at our December cover star's (and VS Angel) best beauty and style moments:
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