Oh, How I Love Sky Mall

As I mentioned the other day, I was away last weekend on a family vacation. This means that I had to board an airplane. And boarding an airplane means I got to read Sky Mall, the single most ridiculous magazine ever printed anywhere. This is not the first blog to be written about Sky Mall, this won’t be the last blog written about Sky Mall, this is simply the most current blog written about Sky Mall.

If you don’t know what Sky Mall is, it’s a phone order catalog that Continental Airlines provides in the seat-back pouch for you to peruse while you fly. I don’t know anyone who has ever thumbed through it who hasn’t immediately begun mocking it mercilessly. It’s the Washington Generals of the airways.

It’s such a weird mix of odd copy and strange products and horrible presentation that…well here:

No. No, I can’t sleep comfortably in any seat. Clearly this man is capable of dozing off having never received the gift of shame. I also could sleep comfortably anywhere if i didn’t care at all what others thought of my shirt, facial hair or gigantic inflatable turquoise rhombus.

Speaking of facial hair, I dare you to name the last catalog in which you saw a mustache, outside of Mustaches Weekly or something.

And yet…

Alllllll the porn stars get their expense reports done early and then relax for the rest of the flight.

I like this one even thought it’s really not a Sky Mall thing. Technically this is just an odd photo.

This is for people who are worried that their walrus-dogs will muddy up the rug. With their flippers. Because that’s a FREAKING WALRUS-DOG!

Anyway, back to the catalog.

Here are some pajamas:

These are world famous. You know how well the fame of pajamas travels. Granted, footed pj’s aren’t the craziest thing in the world…I guess. If you’re a girl. There’s a certain cuteness to them.


Absolutely no. Just…no. There isn’t a man on the planet who could pull off these hideous things. For girls they were a stretch and, frankly, borderline creepy. On this dude? I mean, Jesus Christ, turn in your testicles and go take a nap with the guy on the giant inflatable trapezoid. And…no.

Sky Mall also has some strange infatuation with products that slip over your head and massage you. There’s this.

And this.

And this.

Yes. You know this is a good product because the model is deep in thought. Most likely about the movie Tron.

That last one, actually, was featured on the same page at this:

I think we should slap the two of those together for a shiny stainless steel radar head helmet thing.

What would it do? I don’t know. It would massage you while you listen through your monocular to the neighbors. Or something.

Look. What it does really isn’t important.

When your customer base is willing to pay money for this…whatever this is. A suicide kit I think:

Or this lawn yeti:

Or this cat planter limousine (I’m sorry but that cat looks like it’s stepping onto the red carpet to me):

You really don’t need to concern yourself with what your products do perse.

You just sell them.

Using hideous models.



  1. Laura Coraci says:

    One thing that I have to say in Sky Mall’s favor…they have an awesome return policy. I mean, I assume they do. I hope. Dammit, did I order the right sized pink lip Jammies?!?

  2. Ah, Sky Mall, how could I have forgotten such fond flying memories? I raise my raise my current sin, a golden goblet of ice wine, in toast to a sin from long ago. “To Sky Mall!”…”Free magazine of the wild blue yonder!”

    I remember the joy, the guilt, like it was yesterday. Oh Sky Mall I had no shame! One whisper from you “Take me…Steal me…Stick me under your jacket…No one will ever know.” and I was your willing slave to the destruction of another’s pleasure.

    How they must have cursed my very existence while reaching into that pocket of arial happiness attached to the airplane seat in front of them. After rummaging a few fearful moments, fingers scrabbling to the black bottom and finding only crumbly carcasses under the fingernails, a scratched plastic laminate card bearing directions to several modes of dubious airline escape and one lone rumpled cocktail napkin, they will lean back in defeat.

    I admit…”I was there before them!”

    With a curse and a mighty escalation of air I can see him in my minds eye…a quick lean to the left…a seated bow to the right…furtively searching pockets of seats, that are not there for his flying pleasure, before other passengers arrive and stake claim to coveted “Sky Mall”.

    Alas, the fasten seatbelt sign flashes, neighboring travelers slide in and settle for a long boring flight. He flops back with a distinctly dejected air and watches dispassionately as the new arrivals begin the fruitless search of the pocket in front of them.

    They will search for Sky Mall in vain! Beaten by the passenger on the flight ahead of them. “The treasure is mine, all mine!”

    Maybe I will give the other two dog-eared copies of “Sky Mall” to my Sister and Best friend as wondrous gift, as I intended when I first filched them from the depths of the airline pockets around me.

    Yet, as second thoughts keep nibbling at my mind like a starving rat dropped in a landfill, perhaps I should safely store my extra copies of Sky Mall as backups.

    You know…Just in case.

  3. josephdevon says:

    Wow. Sheila, you really like Sky Mall. 🙂

    • What can I say?

      Guilty as charged.

      I actually own…ah…appropriated a copy of Sky Mall, from a Southwest airline who shall remain nameless, and have never had the courage or fortitude to send it to it’s circular grave.

      Every few years I attempt to get rid of the said “Sky Mall” milestone weighing down my magazine rack. But with one flick of the page I’m a goner! Sucked into that strange and bizarre yet wondrous world of “Wow! Who’d a thought!”

      But then again I also have a junk mail fetish, go figure.

      • josephdevon says:

        I do have to say that your apparent guilt about snaking a copy of Sky Mall is a little strong. They tell you to take it! Beg you even!

        • Don’t misunderstand me. I have no guilt over taking a magazine that very nearly jumped into my lap and begged like a stray puppy to be taken home.

          No, I am a BAD, BAD person because by removing Sky Mall I was depriving the same filch(y) pleasure from the next light-fingered passenger!

          Face it they restock Sky Mall like they restock your drink. (I swear every time I have ever been on a plane it’s as if prohibition has just been declared!)

          “Hey can I get another vodka and OJ over here!”

          “Crap someone took my Sky Mall!”