The not so glam world of the air hostess

PAV’S PATCH: THE things you find out in the newspapers. Until a few weeks ago, I thought being an air hostess was a vaguely glamorous job. And then I read a feature by Imogen Edwards-Jones.

Did you know that if you are on a plane with your Uncle Wilberforce, and he dies in mid-air — probably of a heart attack — it’s likely that they’ll just put an oxygen mask on him, wrap him in a blanket, and make it look as though he’s asleep.

If he pegs out just after you’ve left London for Singapore, one assumes he won’t start ponging before the end of the 12-hour flight. Or indeed that rigor mortis won’t set in to the extent that they can’t get him out of his seat.

I find it all reminiscent of a story I once read about a Romanian family who couldn’t afford to ferry grandpa home by hearse. So they simply doused him with liberal quantities of the local fire water and sat him with them on a train. The other passengers assumed the pasty-faced old bloke was just one more drunk.

However, if you die mid-flight and you’re on your own, then the cabin crew will probably deem it a little indelicate to leave you next to Joe Public. After all, how would you get past to go to the toilet?

In this situation, the body will be upgraded (don’t rich people bother about travelling with stiffs?) or, if there’s no room, it is placed on the galley floor or even put with the rubbish at the back of the plane.

Frankly, I find it a little hard to imagine how you would prepare hot drinks and sort out the meals while having to dodge round a cadaver.

Anyway, if you’re on the 17-hour flight from Singapore to Los Angeles, at least you can travel secure in the knowledge that Singapore Airlines flights have brought in something nicknamed a corpse cupboard.

Beyond this, I often wondered why air hostesses are so caked in make-up. Well, Ms Edwards-Jones reveals that that’s because their mouth and eyes must be visible to passengers from six rows back. No idea why.

However, what I didn’t know was that many stewardesses are subjected to something called the touch toes test. This involved the cabin services director checking to see if naked buttocks can been seen under the skirt.

Apparently the visible panty line is the enemy of the well turned-out air hostess, so some of them simply ditch their underwear. Ooh-er missus!