G-SPOT: My sartorial scheme to avoid airport striptease

Removing my belt to put it through the scanner was a no-no. My trousers could fall to my knees and expose my underwear like a 1990s hip hop fashion victim. So I travelled in shorts that had a drawstring instead of a belt. 

This ruse was successful on the whole. However, before I repeat the exercise, I will have to be sure I don’t arrive in the middle of a downpour.

Instead of lace-up shoes, I plumped for espadrilles. This move was only partially successful. I still had to take them off and risk infection by walking barefoot through a very busy segment of the airport. So perhaps flip flops or sandals next time.

On the plus side, I didn't have to bend down, strain my back before belatedly remembering that to tie my shoelaces at my big age, I should crouch, not bend.

Dressed as I was, the flight attendant on my flight must have thought I was mutton posing as lamb. That's the only reason I can think of for her making a point of asking me if my belt was fastened and smirking as she handed me my complimentary water.

The whole shoe-removal ritual at airports can be traced back to one particularly disastrous fashion choice made on December 22, 2001. 

That was the day Richard Reid, a British extremist with more enthusiasm than skill, boarded an American Airlines flight from Paris to Miami with homemade explosives stuffed into his shoes.

He tried to set them off mid-flight, but thankfully, he proved to be as bad at lighting fuses as he was at life choices. Alert passengers and crew quickly overpowered him, and the plane was diverted to Boston, where police took him into custody.

Reid later admitted he’d made the bombs himself and was sentenced to life in prison. His shoes contained around 10 ounces of explosives, enough to blow a hole in the plane’s fuselage and ruin everyone’s holiday plans.

Thanks to Reid’s ill-fated attempt, taking off our shoes and belts at airport security has become standard practice, just in case anyone else gets a bright idea about hiding danger in their footwear or fancy buckles.

Belts have to come off because, apparently, airport metal detectors can’t tell the difference between a harmless buckle and a deadly weapon. Some belts even come with enough metal to set off alarms faster than you can say “security check”. 

Also, since a few imaginative souls once thought belts made excellent hiding spots for contraband, we all now get to enjoy the collective fun of waddling through security holding up our trousers.

These security measures mean that when going to JKIA, you don’t just arrive, you disembark for a full-blown security performance before you even reach the terminal. Everyone has to get out of the car at the gate for a check that feels unnecessarily more thorough than anything I have ever experienced at OR Tambo or Cape Town International. But I suppose we are “special”.

This step does not seem to happen at Wilson Airport. Apparently, it is all part of JKIA’s multi-layered security system, officially “regulations” but unofficially a chance for you to stretch your legs and practise looking innocent while your luggage gets a more detailed inspection than a tax audit.

That said, it would appear that recently, major airports in the United States decided that making travellers shuffle barefoot through security might not be the height of dignity after all.

Thanks to a new Transportation Security Administration (TSA) policy, most passengers can now keep their shoes on during standard screening. Of course, if your footwear sets off the alarm, perhaps due to excessive style or suspiciously chunky soles, you’ll still be asked to remove them for a closer look.

It’s all part of the TSA’s grand plan to “modernise security” and “improve the passenger experience”, which, in plain English, means slightly fewer people hopping around trying to untie their sneakers while balancing their dignity and hand luggage.

Will travellers in Kenya soon be accorded the same grace? Somehow, I doubt it.