Fashion Do’s And Don’ts From The TSA

by Elizabeth Seward on


When talking about airport security, we generally focus on what travelers are carrying, not what they’re wearing. But thanks to the TSA recently cracking down on passengers’ fashion choices, style is now a part of the airport security conversation. Forget regulations on liquids or weapons: the TSA’s new security threat is clothing, accessories and hairdos, or so they seem to think.

On July 16th, a TSA spokeswoman tweeted a photo of black pumps that had small replica guns as heels. The shoes were confiscated by the TSA at New York’s Laguardia Airport despite the fact that they could have been easily verified as non-weapons. Also in the tweeted photograph was a black belt lined with mock silver bullets. While mock weapons aren’t ever supposed to be admitted on planes, I have to wonder: how far does that regulation extend? Would a charm bracelet with a mock handgun be permitted?

The TSA’s fashion crackdown has also come to include dreadlocks. Numerous reports have surfaced involving hair searches if the passenger sports dreads. Other style conflicts include an instance in which a male TSA officer recently told a 15-year-old traveler to cover herself in a criticism of her tank top, leggings and button-down shirt (not that it matters; it’s not appropriate for a TSA officer to remark on the perceived modesty or lack thereof in regard to passenger clothing).The TSA’s Fashion Dont’s include (or seem to include):

  • Don’t wear accessories that include mock weapons or accessories for weapons, no matter how small or obviously fake.
  • Don’t wear loose head coverings, religious or otherwise.
  • Don’t wear body piercings.
  • Don’t wear thick shirts.
  • Don’t wear studded clothing.
  • Don’t have dreadlocks.
  • Don’t wear tank tops.

Do’s include:

  • Do wear slip-on shoes.
  • Do wear comfortable, layered clothing.
  • Do remove as much jewelry beforehand as possible.

Have your fashion choices been judged by the TSA? Share your stories in the comments below.

I Slept In The Conference Room At Comfort Inn O’Hare

by Elizabeth Seward on

My evening of July 9 was filled with the kind of mundane frustration that can come only from delayed travel. My husband and I were set to fly from New York City to Chicago and Chicago to Marquette, Michigan. Our flight out of New York kept getting pushed back and, despite receiving a seat on a plane leaving earlier than our original flight to Chicago, we still missed our connection in Chicago – the last flight to Marquette for the day. Since the delays were weather-related, we received a coupon for a hotel rather than a voucher. We found the shuttle and lugged our bags toward the long line at the Comfort Inn O’Hare. Once we had our key, we went to our room and opened the door only to find that we’d been placed in the hotel conference room.Just beyond the gigantic oval table and whiteboard was a normal hotel bed. My husband called the front desk to make sure there hadn’t been a mistake. They said we got the last room in the hotel because many passengers had been stranded in Chicago that evening and received airline coupons for the hotel. I wasn’t at all perturbed. Having to wait around all day for delayed and missed flights only to be put up in an airport hotel is boring. This, on the other hand, was new.

A follow-up call with the hotel manager revealed that this “Conference Room Suite” is always available for guests to rent and that under normal circumstances, it costs more, too. Although I didn’t see the room as a booking option on their website, business travelers occasionally choose this room over others. Distressed passengers typically stay in the room only if the hotel has been hit hard with delayed and canceled flights and has nowhere else to put guests.

Aside from the leaking ceiling and distance between the bed and television, I was happy to stay in the conference room. Not only did it give me a roof over my head for the night, but it gave me a good story, too. Have you ever been placed in an unusual hotel room?

[Photo Credit: Ben Britz]

The Desolate Salt Mines Of Sal Island, Cape Verde

by Elizabeth Seward on


I didn’t know about Sal until a couple weeks before I departed for a trip to the island, at the invitation of a friend who wanted to go there for the purpose of diving and also wanted to have a travel partner in tow. I knew little about the country of Cape Verde. Between agreeing to go on the trip and now, I’ve learned about the 83.4 square mile stretch of land that sits in the Atlantic Ocean off of the coast of Mauritania and in doing so, I’ve learned about Sal’s salt, which has been both the backbone and bane of the island’s economy over the years. The salt mines of Sal are one of the island’s biggest tourist attractions and yet eerily desolate and nearly inactive.

The island itself is one of 10 islands that makes up the country of Cape Verde. Sal is an island belonging to a northern group of islands within the country, called Barlavento. It’s sandy and mostly flat, with the exception of inactive volcanic formations that protrude above the near-desert surface. It’s almost always sunny in Sal and even during the “rainy” season, it hardly rains. Geologically, Sal is the oldest island of Cape Verde. Its earth was formed nearly 50 million years ago from the eruption of a currently inactive volcano. Originally called Llana when the island was discovered by the Portuguese in 1460, the name was changed to Sal after the discovery of the island’s salt mines in what is now called Pedra de Lume. The landscape of Pedra de Lume and the rest of the island doesn’t look much different than the latest images of Mars the Curiosity Rover has sent back.

%Gallery-193936%Located on the northeastern part of the island, Pedra de Lume’s salt was predominantly mined during the 18th century. According to the guide I hired to show me around the island, nearly 300 locals worked the mines during that time. He estimated the current number of mine employees to be around five or so. The village is small these days and seems to mostly persist for the sake of travelers, like myself, who want to see the ancient salt mines for themselves. Very little salt is still produced from these mines – what is made these days is made primarily for locals and tourists. The changing currency of Sal’s salt has been an economic blow in the company of many others for the local community.

The salt evaporation ponds that were built over the natural volcanic salt lake all sit within the Pedra de Lume crater, which is beneath sea level. As I walked through the tunnel that leads to the mines, the light shot shiny beams through the darkness, signaling the clearing ahead. Once through the tunnel, I made my way down the path that leads to the salt ponds and promptly disrobed, eager to experience that famous unsinkable feeling that waters this salty, 26 times saltier than seawater, provide. No matter how much I’d read about this rare buoyancy before or seen in photos, nothing had ever conveyed the feeling of invincibility that washed over me. I struggled to swim to the center of the salt pond and tried my hand at performing yoga postures and dance positions in the water. I’d occasionally roll, collecting the repulsive tonic in my mouth, but I never sank. Instead of showering upon exiting the pond, I let the salt coat my skin, which gave my legs the texture of sandpaper. The spooky scenery of Sal’s salt mines isn’t only memorable; the desolate expanse of otherworldly land lends merit to the main attraction.


[Photo Credit: Elizabeth Seward]

The Day I Jumped In Regent’s Canal And Tried To Save My Wet iPhone With Uncooked Rice

by Dave Seminara on

There are plenty of ways for Americans to make a good impression in London. Scurrying into stores dripping wet, asking for large sacks of rice and zip lock bags isn’t one of them. I was enjoying a relaxing walk along Regent’s Canal after a visit to the Camden Lock Market in North London when, daydreaming, I tripped over a mooring post. I fell to the ground and my backpack, containing my Nikon D7000 DSLR camera and my iPhone, tumbled right into the canal.

It only took me an instant to realize that I needed to jump in the water to retrieve the bag and in my urgency, I didn’t think to ditch my wallet or take my shirt, pants or shoes off before taking the plunge. Recovering my bag was easy, but hoisting myself back out of the canal took some doing. And as I pulled myself out of the murky, smelly water, a small crowd had gathered to watch the spectacle, perfect theater for a Sunday afternoon.”You oh-roight, mate?” one man asked as I stood on the narrow walkway, dripping wet and feeling ridiculous.

“Nice day fer a swim, innit?” quipped another. Indeed it was a lovely day for a swim; 61 degrees with London’s characteristically ominous, fast-moving clouds.

A passing boat pulled over and a couple rushed over to me with a bath towel and a clean T-shirt. The man said the shirt was mine to keep and the woman helped me dry my camera and iPhone.

“You’ve got to find a sack of rice and fast,” the man said. “The sooner you get your electronics sealed inside a bag with rice, the better your chances.”

I walked back to the Camden Lock, my pants feeling oppressively wet and heavy, with water sloshing around in my shoes. I consoled myself with a roti at a Pakistani sandwich stall and the owner confirmed that I needed to find some uncooked rice and fast.

A South Asian clerk in the nearest supermarket I could find, eyed me warily as I asked for a big bag of rice and zip lock bags.

“Why are you all wet?” he asked.

I explained and suddenly he became interested in my quest.

“I have a wet iPhone too,” he said. “Let me know if the rice works, will you?”

He didn’t know what zip lock bags were, but we found the British equivalent along with a few small bags of rice. After I paid for the items, I crouched down in the corner of the store and put my camera and phone inside the bags, then began poring the rice over them. An over-officious middle management type in a short-sleeve shirt and clip-on tie came over to me, and in the sort of vaguely hostile way a store security guard might approach a homeless person, he asked, “What uh you doing there, sir?”

But thankfully my new friend rushed over to explain. “It’s OK,” he said. “He just took a swim in Regent’s Canal and is trying to save his gear.”

I returned to my apartment in Earl’s Court, still wet and smelling like something unpleasant dredged from the bottom of the canal. I rather liked my new T-shirt, but felt sick thinking that I may have just pissed away $2,000 worth of electronic equipment into an old canal. I heard different stories about how long I needed to keep my gear turned off and inside the bags of rice. Some said you needed just 24 hours, but others said 3-4 days. I was in town to cover Wimbledon but played it safe, resisting the temptation to snap photos of the All England Club for four full days. On my last morning in town, I nervously took my items out of the rice, like a teenager opening a slim-looking admissions letter envelope from their dream college.

The camera worked, but the iPhone was displaying gibberish. I took it to a cellphone shop on Earl’s Court Road and a Pakistani man named Akbar, who sat on a stool surrounded by phones and phone gadgetry, read my iPhone its last rites.

“This phone is dead,” he said, grim faced and stoic. “Very dead. I’m afraid there’s nothing that can be done.”

I felt a bit like a dog owner facing up to a grim diagnosis from a veterinarian. As I boarded a train for the brilliantly named tube stop “Cockfosters” I took stock of my trip. I was leaving town without a working phone but I had an unforgettable story to tell. And a new T-shirt.

Remake Detroit (VIDEO)

by Elizabeth Seward on

Detroit is coming back from the dead, one creative maker at a time. i3 Detroit is one of the organizations that is helping to pave a new path through Detroit – and there are other groups of people making an effort to rejuvenate the city through artists, too. This short documentary focuses on a devotion to the reincarnation of Detroit that is the driving force behind the collective efforts of many to bring the city back by utilizing a human characteristic the city has long been familiar with: the desire to make; the desire to build.

Thanks, Laughing Squid.