Three flights, one night in Tel Aviv
My mom, Tanya, and Cheryl Lynne have been friends for thirty years. Pilot friendships run on a strange clock — you can be best friends and see each other twice a year, because one of you is always somewhere over an ocean. The group chat never stops, but the same city, the same night? That takes the schedule gods.
Then one night the schedule gods got playful. All three of them landed in Tel Aviv on the same evening — three separate flights, three different starting points, one hotel. After thirty years of friendship, the planet finally folded itself in exactly the right way.
My mom was the last one in — straight from the airport, with just enough time to freshen up before dinner. The next morning they scattered across the planet again, the way pilots do, like it was nothing.
These are the fairy godmothers — the family friends whose finds sit alongside my aunts' all over this site. Tanya curates our Italian picks; Cheryl Lynne's finds are scattered through the collections. When we say every item here was carried home by someone who flies, these are the women we mean. Sometimes the suitcase comes home from Lake Como. Sometimes it comes home with a story like this one.