A thigh-high hem of silk. Fleshy and French-looking, the
kind Audrey Hepburn flashed in some Turner Classic. What you might not
know is that the whole movie was based on those dark stockings: the
props hauled in, the script double-spaced, the grip, gaffer, rolls of
film. Even the plane was strategically placed, constantly carrying something
lovely just out of reach—the airlines know how much we love that.
They get the air going, barely breathable, with just enough wind to
keep us looking around for anything to go wrong. So when it does, smack
on the thigh of an Audrey Hepburn look-alike, we say it’s like
a movie. Then the dreams standing in line start shoving. The runways
expand over the arc of the earth. All that touching down and flying
off becomes too much. Then the person you think you are stands in as
the hero and the person you’re afraid you are stands back and watches.