It’s taking 13 hours and one minute to fly back from the future. My plane pushed back from Sydney at 11:30AM on Tuesday and is touching down in Los Angeles at 6AM… also Tuesday. There is something wonderfully disorienting about flying over deep sea trenches, crossing the invisible seam of the International Date Line and skipping over the Equator as if it were a silk ribbon laid across the sea. At wing level, a blood-red crescent moon is keeping pace with us. I came prepared. A journal for the delirious thoughts that only arrive mid-air. A I’ve been savoring. February and March issues of Australian Vogue—thick, glossy, impossible to rush. The comfiest known to woman.that forgive the second bag of potato chips. And, as usual, within within , new precious Australian cargo ( and ), along with cute and slippers to wear on the plane inside! There is a peculiar luxury in being unreachable yet entirely connected. Hours to roam the worldwide web without apology. To fall down rabbit holes. To bookmark, screenshot, archive. Here’s what I discovered along the way back to reality: High Sport’s new printastic pants in and , the seen everywhere in Sydney (very spot on CBK too), this beaded top, everything Celine-inspired at (wow!), and these cute and easy for more south-of-the-equator adventures.