So You Want To Be A Stewardess

A very personal review of the Singapore Girl's uniform

Ah, the kebaya. The iconic uniform of the Singapore Airlines cabin crew, created by French designer Pierre Balmain. Coupled with clever Singapore Girl advertising, the kebaya is a symbol of aspiration for women (and for men too, but in a different way).

I loved this uniform. As a new recruit, the kebaya fitting was a magical moment. I remember going to the appointed tailor to get measured for my very own custom made kebaya. When I stepped inside, there were kebayas everywhere.

From pieces of batik cloth on the sewing tables waiting to be cut, to completed uniforms hanging up smartly, I saw them in all their stages of construction. It was very exciting. Getting fitted made me feel like I was finally part of this tribe.

By the way, recruits are instructed to show up at the tailor's with the exact bra that we swear to wear with our kebaya, just so we're fitted perfectly. Yeah. Bras are part of the uniform too.

As for working in it, the only downside was its tightness around the stomach. If I had a big meal before or during the flight, it was bloody uncomfortable. But this tightness was also a bonus - when I finished my work for the day/night, checked into that hotel room anywhere in the world and shut that door, the very first thing I always did was to unzip my top.

It's one long zip down the front, and I can tell you, there is no better relief than finishing the long day, pulling that zip down, and letting it all hang. Ahhh.... Total bliss.

So I didn't mind the tightness. I also appreciated how surprisingly low-maintenance it was.

Its bold batik print meant it hid stains well, which was crucial because we handled everything from half-eaten food to soiled diapers. Lots of yuck. It was also easy to wash, and didn't require ironing. That was the clincher for me.

It was also practical. The high slit in the skirt, for example, made it easy to take long strides and move quickly. Plus, it had a pleated design, so when I sat down across from passengers at take-off and landing, I could spread the pleats out and over to cover my modesty. Not bad for a design by some white guy.

Now, shoes. Many people assume we wear heels or court shoes of some sort, but it's better than that: we wear sandals, in a matching batik print. They are comfy as. We also have safety shoes or landing shoes. These are ugly covered shoes, kind of like Crocs. Also in the batik print. Also comfy as.

Lastly, the handbag. You may not even have noticed that we all have the same one. It's blue, kinda greyish-blue, a classic shape with a long strap, a zip on the back, and a gold plated clasp on the front.

It was probably designed to be discreet, not to take away from the bold, colourful kebaya. In fact, it's so discreet that I would say, no woman in her right mind would covet or spend any proper money on it.

The reason I'm not so hot on the bag is because my handbag clasp got stuck very early into my flying career. I was on a flight and remember panicking when it happened. My passport and crew pass was in there! How the hell was I going to get past immigration?

So I freaked out, grabbed my handbag and locked myself in the toilet.

Frantically, I tried every single way to force the clasp open. I even squirted some hand wash on it, thinking the lubrication might help. It didn't. I was dying inside when my eyes fell on the zip at the back.

I unzipped it immediately, but it only led to a small rear pocket, housing my keys. In unthinking frustration, I grabbed my keys and started stabbing at this inner pocket lining.

Suddenly, it tore. I cursed my impulsiveness. I'd damaged company property. Shit.

But then, magic. The tear had given way to reveal: the main body of my handbag. I cried with glee. I could access my passport, everything I needed, from the back pocket! Yes! I jabbed away till the entire seam tore.

Till the day I quit, I never got the clasp to come unstuck, but it never mattered again. I could reach it all through the rear zip, and that was good enough for me. 

At the end of the day, there's aspiration, then there's reality.