Without boring you with ancient history, you should know that the first time I went to an airport in 19yadayada, my mother required me to wear a jacket and tie and put on my Sunday church shoes. And I wasn't even flying. We were simply going to the then-futuristic TWA terminal at the then-Idlewild Airport to see a family member off on a European trip.

Most of the time I recount that story in speeches, I talk about the huge oval departure board that dominated Eero Saarinen's Jetsons-like terminal at Kennedy Airport. The gigantic totem with its clacking mechanical letters and numerals inflamed the imagination of a city kid whose family never ventured more than 250 miles from home.

Lately, though, I've been thinking about clothing. Imagine dressing up just to go to an airport. Like most of today's male business travelers, I don't even dress that prettily when I fly. Business casual rules the airport roost: slacks, slip-on shoes, an open-collar shirt, and a blue blazer. And when I think I can get away with it, I lose the jacket and loafers and substitute a muted Hawaiian shirt.

In these dress-down times, however, that laid-back regimen qualifies me as a fashion plate. Just in the last month, we've heard about Malinda Knowles, the woman suing JetBlue Airways because her short-shorts and baggy T-shirt raised questions about whether she was going commando. Too much visible underwear was DeShon Marman's problem. He was tossed off a flight because US Airways didn't like his low-riding slacks. Then there's the cross-dresser whose hooker outfit didn't get him barred from a flight. And since her 15 minutes of fame expired long gone, we've forgotten Kyla Ebberts, whose flying attire was so skimpy that she ended up with a Playboy pictorial.

How we got from suits and Sunday shoes to underwear wars is fodder for deep sociological musings that are far above this business traveler's emotional pay grade. What I can offer here, however, are several commonsense tips for what I can only call practical plane dressing. They won't get you 15 minutes of aeronautic-apparel fame, but I'm fairly sure that they'll quickly get you past the security screeners and guarantee that no one will toss you off your next flight.

What Not to Wear

You needn't be the host of a cable-TV show to know what not to wear when you fly. Hats, be they your Sunday finest or backward-facing baseball caps, will have to be doffed and screened separately. Metal jewelry, be it bling or Tiffany's best, will have to be run through the X-ray machines. Big metal belt buckles, be they fashion forward or cowboy classic, will raise the ire of screeners. I've gone so far as to go without a belt; I stash it in my carry-on and don't put it on until I get to my destination. I also wear a plastic watch now when I'm flying. And since the Transportation Security Administration continues to demand you lose your shoes, there's no logic to flying in footwear with laces. Find a simple pair or pumps or loafers to get you through the checkpoint.