Everyone knows Amelia Earhart as the woman who defied gravity. First woman to fly solo across the Atlantic. Style icon in leather jackets. Poster girl of fearlessness.
But here’s something most people don’t know:
Amelia once launched a fashion line. And it flopped.
In 1934, she designed clothing for “the active woman” — washable dresses, no-fuss fabrics, built-in belts, zippers (which at the time were as controversial as walking around braless in church). She literally sewed her own samples in her living room and pitched them to department stores like Macy’s. The idea was brilliant: functional elegance — clothing women could move in without sacrificing femininity.
But society wasn’t ready.
Retailers said it was “too masculine” for women and “too feminine” for aviation gear. The world loved Amelia in a cockpit — but wasn’t prepared to accept that women might want to look good while getting things done.
Photo: Jessica Feely Photography
Fast forward 90 years.
I didn’t know this part of her history until recently — ironically, I learned it when I was doing market research to launch my own clothing line. When I found out, I laughed out loud because Amelia, darling… I feel you.
When You Fly a Warbird Across the Country in a Sports Bra and Regret It at Every Fuel Stop
Last month I flew Scarlett, my 1944 Stinson Reliant V77 — a World War II trainer — across the country for an aeronautical book tour. If you’ve never flown a vintage war machine for eight hours straight, let me paint you a picture:
You smell like avgas and engine oil.
Your hair has been fine-mist greased from the exhaust, and then squashed down by a headset. You’ll notice in most pictures I’m wearing a cowgirl hat (which my country roots do love, by the way).
Sports bras don’t hold the tata’s well in turbulence, so you definitely need a regular bra.
And then — you land, everything is wrinkled in the crouch, you unpinch the the shirt from the depths of your stinky armpit then the door swings open, people are waiting, and you’ve got 45 seconds to look like something other than a sweaty ferret who survived a wind tunnel.
A few months before that I flew my second air race, and looked like a sweaty gym rat that had just stepped off the treadmill the entire time. The only thing redeeming about my race outfits was my bandana-scarf and — yep — the cowgirl hat.
That’s when it hit me.
Amelia didn’t fail. She was just early.
Because here I was — a modern-day pilot, doctorate-holding woman, therapist by training and warbird pilot by preference — and I was still facing the exact problem she tried to solve:
Where are the clothes for women who fly — that respect both our bodies and our power?
Somewhere between the glory days of Pan Am elegance — when flight attendants walked the runway before takeoff — and today’s aviation uniforms, we lost something crucial:
Style. Pride. Femininity without apology.
Now, women in aviation are offered two options:
- “Headed to Pilates (or Pickleball) in 20” stretchy athleisure.
- An extra-small men’s captain uniform from the Delta locker room, tailored like a hostage situation.
Neither says: “I am a woman who commands the sky.”
Jeans Are Cute — Until You Lose Circulation Over Nebraska
Jeans are adorable… on brunch patios.
Jeans are acceptable… for grocery store runs.
But jeans in a cockpit for eight hours?
By hour two, they’re cutting into your hip flexors. By hour four, you're bargaining with the aviation gods. By hour six, you’re hallucinating waistbands. By hour eight, you’re praying for a hydraulic failure just to have something more urgent to think about.
And let’s not even discuss trying to gracefully exit a cockpit wearing skinny jeans. It’s less Top Gun and more birth canal footage.
I needed something better. And I realized — I wasn't alone.
So I'm doing the only logical thing... I'm building my own fashion line.
Jacket: Fall Collection VASINOVA
Photo: Jessica Feely Photography
Introducing Scarlett & Co.
Named after my 1944 Stinson Reliant V77 — fondly known as Scarlett.
Named after The Scarlet Letter — clothing forced upon a woman for not staying inside society's box.
Named after Scarlett O’Hara from Gone With the Wind — because sometimes, sheer feminine defiance is aerodynamic.
Scarlett & Co. isn’t just a clothing line.
It’s a declaration that functional does not mean frumpy.
That beauty does not weaken performance — it enhances it.
That women who fly deserve fabrics that honor the environment - their bodies and their mission.
What Makes Scarlett & Co. Different?
Well — everything.
I’ve been ahead of trends my whole life - which wasn't a good thing, I was often laughed at for showing up to parties in outfits that weren't in trend...yet - . I was wearing cords and bringing back bootcut when women were still rocking skinnies. Minis and tennis shoes? Vintage lace with jeans and cap sleeves with jean cut offs - I did that… always a few years before my time.
This time I’m committed to not repeating Amelia’s mistake.
I’m passionate about what females who fly in small airplanes (whether as pilots or copilots) need. I’m mixing my country upbringing (think outdoor) with my love of vintage (think feminine & lace) and the actual reality of flying small airplanes (materials that don’t wrinkle and have stretch).
Eco-Luxe Fabrics Like Tencel: Breathable, sustainable, temperature-regulating. It drapes, it moves, it laughs in the face of cockpit sweat.
Sweetheart Necklines & Tailored Lines: Not plunging, not prudish — feminine without fragility.
Cockpit-Approved Mobility: Stretch that respects blood flow. Waistbands that expand when you do the in-flight snack slouch. No seams where your seatbelt lives.
No Buttons, Zippers or Tags in Crucial Zones. Nothing pinching the armpits or breast lymph nodes. Aviation rule: if it digs, it dies.
It’s high-function flightwear with Pan Am soul and warbird grit.
This isn’t a trend. It’s a revival.
I like to imagine Amelia watching from somewhere, arms crossed, headset tilted, smirking.
She didn’t fail. She simply planted the flag before there was airspace to fly in.
But now, there are more of us than ever in the pilot and the co-pilot seats. Warbird girls. Floatplane aviatrixes. Airline captains. Helicopter queens. Student pilots with chipped nail polish and 500-knot ambition.
I’m just picking up her flight plan — with better fabrics, better stitching, and more altitude tolerance for unapologetic femininity.
Women in aviation — whether you’re riding in, or flying turbines, taildraggers, gliders, or Gulfstreams — deserve clothing that you love.
Because aviation has always been about freedom — so why are our wardrobes still grounded?
Scarlett & Co. is for every woman who has ever stepped out of an airplane and thought:
“Damn. I wish I looked as powerful as I felt.”
Amelia — this one’s for you.
And for the next generation of girls watching us from the ramp, hair whipping in the propwash, knowing flight suits don’t have to be army green (although I do love that color) to be taken seriously.
Standby - history in the making...
Bomber Jacket: Fall Collection VASINOVA Photo: Jessica Feely Photography
Bomber Jacket You've Probably Spotted in These Photos
The bomber jacket with the fur collar — the one I’m wearing in half these shots — was a gift for the aerial book tour and is part of the upcoming Fall Collection from Vasinova.
It has quickly become my go-to. It’s layered perfection, with a zip-out vest, smart pocket placement, and just the right amount of vintage beauty. If you want to stay warm at 11,000 feet and still look classy on the ground, get on the waitlist when it launches. This jacket is legit fabulous.