I dated a PanAm stewardess for two years in the early 70’s. I was stationed in Spain, attached to the consulate in Barcelona, and made frequent trips back and forth to the States on PanAm. The ladies were were all simply gorgeous..and those powder blue uniforms, with the little bowler hats..well..
We were flown to Danang, Vietnam in 1968 by Continental (IIRC). We were all a bit apprehensive (Marines & Soldiers don't get SCARED, do we?) as we taxied in past all the F-4 Phantoms in sandbag revetments, expecting to be handed an M-16 as we exited the plane and dashed under incoming mortar fire to a bunker...
Everything was either grey or olive drab or camouflage.
As we descended the boarding ladder, the senior stewardess was at the bottom, saying "Thank you for flying with us." She was in her thirties, a bit older than most of us but still very beautiful dressed in the pink & purple uniform with that little pillbox hat. She had a bit of a wistful look behind her smile. Years later I realized that after a day or two of rest, she would be taking a load of Marines & soldiers home - a very different group of men who had aged a decade in 13 months, who would give a bit of a cheer as the plane left the runway followed by loud, resounding cheers as we cleared the coastline and flew out of the range of ground fire.
She was like an older sister watching her young brothers deplane, knowing what a different group of men they would be on the return trip. Dressed in that lovely, feminine, pink & purple uniform, sweetness and bright colors amidst the grey, olive drab and camo and a group of soon-to-be warriors.
Man, I wish I could paint!