Vive la Difference!

There is a pleasant conspiracy aloft these days, namely that although the air lines fly basically the same planes with the same equipment in the same time over the same routes, each airline is somehow distinctly and deliciously different. The sky's the limit for any frill or frippery, from gourmet menus to miniskirted hostesses, that will make the passenger exclaim, "Vive la difference!"

As a result, opulence in the sky has reached a new stratosphere, and air pas sengers here and abroad are turning into the most overstuffed, overcomfied, overentertained customers in the history of flight.

Going west? United Airlines last week was hard-sell advertising its Royal Hawaiian Red Carpet First Class, in cluding Mai Tais, a filet mignon teriyaki, fancy desserts ("You don't have to pronounce 'em to enjoy 'em"), wide-screen color movies, and a stewardess in a tropical kimuu to pull on your slippers. Trans World Airlines was promoting its four-entree coach meals (seven entrees first class), plus its wide-screen movies and eight channels of stereo, with a hi-fi for everybody.

Cussing & Calamity Janes. Braniff International tried to have it both ways, one day running a full-page "weight watcher's guide to Dallas" listing its low, medium-and high-calorie flights, the next day taking a two-page newspa per ad to boast about its gourmet delicacies plus special treatment for "those stubborn few who don't like perfect martinis. We let you mix your own." On its Chicago-New York flight, United was gunning for the tired businessman, with a whole plane turned into a men-only compartment, where commuting executives are free to cuss, smoke cigars and relax in rumpled shirtsleeve comfort. For businessmen who do not want to relax, Braniff offered portable typewriters and Dictaphones. And for passengers with Klondike fever, Alaska Airlines was featuring Gay Nineties flights, replete with schooners of beer, red-velvet and gold-tassel cabin decor, stewardesses who wear ankle-length red-velvet skirts and sport 1890 hair styles, and in-flight announcements sung to Calamity Jane lyrics.

Whatever the showmanship, it is the stewardess who carries the brunt of being both star attraction and hard-working housemaid. What with jet flights getting shorter and menus growing longer, the stewardesses' life aloft is a kind of hell in the heavens. There are as many as 195 guests to greet, seat, serve ancj--within reason--sate, and the girls must perform like a whirlwind combination of Jean Shrimpton, Gwen Cafritz, a short-order cook and a nurse for all ages. One Western Air Lines time-motion expert, for instance, has figured out that on an 85-minute flight with 122 people aboard, a stewardess averages no more than 23 seconds with each passenger. Whereas TWA used to dangle its transcontinental flights before senior stewardesses as a lush reward for longevity, such runs are now frequently given to neophytes--simply because they are younger, fresher and can run harder.

Peekaboo & Pucci. The moment after takeoff, service is expected to begin. Japan Air Lines' girls pop passengers into kimonos, United's hand out little knitted bootees, Braniff's pass out perfumed steam towels, TWA's distribute travel guides. And stewardesses must keep it up right to the end, when some airlines pass out monogrammed matchbooks, golf balls and orchid corsages as souvenirs. There must never be a letdown;

Delta, for instance, is proud that its stewardesses "smile from the inside out" all through the flight.

To add even more glitter and glamour aloft, the girls are becoming more and more haute couture. Braniff began the high-fashion fad two years ago, when it introduced a flashy series of Pucci-designed costume changes for its stewardesses. So popular was the air strip that (despite girls' complaints that they got all worn out with the attention they had to pay to what they were wearing) Braniff added more of Pucci to the wardrobe last year, including print leotards with matching minitunics and derby hats. Following suit, American Airlines stewardesses have been outfitted in white miniskirts, fishnet stockings and boots.

California's doughty little interstate line, Pacific Southwest Airline, dresses its girls in a celery-green miniskirt, with hot-orange peekaboo pettipants. Stewardesses for Western put on flowing, high-fashion lounging pajamas when they serve dinner; on flights to Acapulco, they wear brilliant-colored Mexican beachcomber shifts over Bermuda shorts.

Small Revolt. Stewardesses are taught to treat a passenger's kiss or casual caress "with humor," but the opportunities for aisle-side lechery are ever more fleeting. Says an American stewardess-service supervisor: "They might get a pat, but the girls are moving so fast that they scarcely have time to get pinched." The girls object to the speed-up for a very different reason; they feel that they are being turned into automatons. But there are signs of a small revolt in the making among over-coddled passengers, too. When United Air Lines recently experimented with a kiddies' menu, it was stunned to discover that more adults than children opted for the hot dogs, hamburgers and peanut-butter sandwiches instead of the full-course meal.

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