The jet-setter's 'it' bag

The Rimowa Salsa Air in Cognac emerges like a shiny topaz from the bowels of the airport, and glides into my waiting fingertips. I have no problems lifting it off the carousel (no porter required) because it has handles both at the top and the side, and it’s light as — you guessed it! — air.

One of the things I ?love about my ?job is that I get to ?travel a lot, but let’s face it: travel today is not what it used to be. I long for that bygone era certain heritage-heavy fashion houses keep flogging: you know, the one when travel was a luxury indulged in by people of means. They had valets pack their wardrobes into steamer trunks, and just stood by idly while willing, nimble porters did all the heavy lifting.

In this age of terrorist threats and budget airlines, traveling has become decidedly less glamorous. Instead of Audrey Hepburn in Sabrina, I most often feel like Steve Martin in Planes, Trains and Automobiles.

But even if I’m stressed by all the security checks, scrutinized by beady-eyed immigration officials, and underserved by surly stewardesses, there is one place where I have my Hepburn moment, and it only gets better from there: baggage claim.

Air to the throne: The Rimowa Salsa Air (shown here in Cognac) is the status symbol that demands VIP treatment, which will magically trickle up to you.

Hard to believe, but it’s true. While my fellow passengers vainly try to spot their generic black suitcase among the hundred other generic black suitcases trundling down the conveyor belt, I instantly recognize mine. A Rimowa Salsa Air in Cognac, it emerges like a shiny topaz from the bowels of the airport, and glides into my waiting fingertips. I have no problems lifting it off the carousel (no porter required) because it has handles both at the top and the side, and it’s light as — you guessed it! — air.

Actually, I’m not being completely honest here. My Hepburn moment officially started at check-in, when my traveling companions spotted me wheeling my brand-new Rimowa into the airport. Now, I’m one of those people who don’t know the meaning of “packing light,” but I was steering my suitcase one-handed because Rimowa’s Multiwheel technology allows it to turn a full 360 degrees, making it as easy to maneuver as a German automobile on four-wheel drive. With a telescoping handle that automatically stops at two heights (one for tall people and the other for petite, like me), I can navigate through the narrowest airplane aisle and the most crowded airport without breaking a sweat — my Rimowa can twirl like Fred Astaire out of the tightest travel situation.

Anyway, once my companions saw my new arm candy, all other designer satchels fell by the wayside. “Is that a Rimowa?” one of them asked with obvious envy. “Where did you get it?”

“At Adora,” I replied, then launched into an explanation of why I’d basically trashed my old suitcase. Though it was a luggage brand known for its durability, it hadn’t been able to withstand the rigors of modern travel. I’d already had it repaired once, but again, a hole had started ripping itself open at one corner. The zipper wouldn’t close properly. It only had two wheels, which meant it was hell to haul around and my arm had to bear the brunt of the weight. Lastly, I was tired of replacing the padlock whenever some TSA-happy country decided to randomly open my bag.

No such problems with my Rimowa. Its shell is made of polycarbonate, a nearly indestructible material that is also close to weightless. Temperature-resistant, it protects your belongings from the extremes in the cargo hold or outdoors. What’s more, it’s recyclable and easily dyed, making it easy for Rimowa to tint it in the latest fashion colors like Ultra Violet and Inca Gold. Aircraft panels, bulletproof glass and, I imagine, the carbonite that encased Han Solo in The Empire Strikes Back, are all made of unbreakable polycarbonate.

I’ll also never have to worry about padlocks, keys, and key cases again. The Salsa Air, as well as all other Rimowa products, comes with its very own TSA-approved lock. It works like a safe: first you set your own three-digit combination, which keeps the bag’s zippers securely locked. To open, just input your combination, twist the lock and the zipper pulls instantly pop out.

Handle with care: The Salsa Air’s telescopic handle is light but extremely sturdy, and automatically stops at two heights (for tall and petite travelers).

Envious looks followed my Rimowa through the airport all the way to the hotel, where no one — from the bus driver to the bellhop — failed to notice or comment on its beauty. It’s the kind of status symbol that demands VIP treatment, which will magically trickle up to you.

Once in the hotel, I opened my burnished-gold suitcase and found that my personal effects hadn’t shifted a bit, unlike the hot, jumbled mess I used to find in my old luggage. The Salsa Air is divided into two compartments protected by a zip-up mesh, which is perfect for people who love to compartmentalize their lives and possessions, like me.

As I started to unpack, I marveled at how one item as seemingly insignificant as a bag changed my whole travel experience from hapless (Steve Martin) to haute (Audrey Hepburn), and wondered why I hadn’t done it sooner. I finally understand what all those fashion companies keep harking back to: that golden age when traveling was sane and civilized.

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The Salsa Air is available at Rimowa stores in Greenbelt 5 (ground level), Adora Greenbelt 5, Power Plant Mall Rockwell (ground level), Newport Mall Resorts World (ground level) and Glorietta 4 (second level).