Back to: The Cabin Crew Interview Made Easy – Curbside

Words: 2,477

Read Time: 13 minutes

Oct 6, 2025

Lesson Author

Caitlyn. Rogers

“So, why do you want to become cabin crew?“

Every applicant has a story. A moment. A memory. A fantasy. And this question is designed to test whether yours is built on hotel breakfasts and uniform envy, or whether you understand the role well enough to actually live it… and survive it.

We’ve touched on the importance of cabin crew habits. Now it’s time to ask what the profession means to you.

When you’re ready, noses against the glass — let’s peer past the glamour, past the Instagram-ready moments, and into the reality of that coveted clipped wing.

I ♥ uniforms.

The first uniform to seduce me was my school uniform. That should tell you everything you need to know about my childhood. And high school career week just so happened to land on no-uniform week. During which, I was the only pupil still wearing mine — because…well, let’s not unpack all that here. Suffice it to say, I clung to mine like a comfort blankie. It kept my secrets, secret. Smoothed out the curve that marked me as different — as long as you didn’t look too closely at the rest of me.

There I sat, in my mismatching shoes, in two different sizes, wearing the remaining mess that was my home-cut hair when out slipped a slew of magazine clippings, each containing a medley of mouth-watering airline colours. It was like piercing the seal on a fresh tin of assorted chocolates before all the good one’s are gone.

United Airlines — creamy Milky Bar Buttons.

TWA — rich, golden caramel.

PSA — strawberry cream and orange fondant.

Everything chic, everything coordinated from their hair to their boots.

Crimson lips.

Matching hats perched at a precise, flirtatious angle.

Even the smiles had a brand name: the Pan-Am smile.

They weren’t just wearing uniforms…Those girls were the uniforms.

It seemed like airlines had decoded the entire mystery of womanhood — and were running secret charm farms to transform ordinary girls into polished Trolley Dollies. I, meanwhile, was still trying to work out how to repurpose a felt tip pen as eyeliner.

That was the pivot point. I stopped playing with Dad’s dolls… and started chasing my own dolly fantasy.

Wow, what a dreamer I was back then. Nose pressed to glass like a Dickensian orphan watching a family carving Christmas turkey. And that origin story makes it a little tricky to answer interview questions. Partly because I didn’t really know anything about the actual job. I only knew what it looked like. The surface-level fantasy.

I’d only just taken my first ever flight two weeks earlier — and as you’ll see, it was a fairytale ghost flight that somehow managed to upstage the City of Dreams. So there I stood, outside VHQ, cigarette smouldering at my feet, suitcase bursting with delusion, with nothing but a uniform obsession to call ambition.

(You didn’t really think I’d lug a suitcase around just for a one night hotel stay did you? Ah, bless, but no, I was packed, all the way down to my baby book. I’d even resigned from my internship at British Aerospace.)

I thought jobs distributed uniforms like complimentary refreshments. And since I was “headhunted” by Virgin crew (more on that later), I anticipated a let’s-get-the-tailor-in-here-to-get-her-uniform-fitted welcome at Virgin HQ.

I was ready to board the next Lady Penelope back to La-La Land.

Uh Boy!

I’m not alone in my dreamy-eyed delusions. Sure, most applicants aren’t foolish enough to expect they’ll swagger out of the interview dressed in the finest haute couture with an autographed designer tag kissing their necks — but many still believe the job is simple to acquire. And in this industry, that’s the same mistake.

This role comes with deceptively low entry requirements, paired with an image so spectacular, it’s easy to get swept up in the influencer’s version of events — all filters, fragrances, and flat lays from 34,000 feet.

Some applicants become mesmerised by the overall image. And who could blame them? It’s sleek. Iconic. Photographed into legend. The uniforms unravelled from the imaginations of top fashion designers. Steeped in heritage, stitched into brand identity.

For decades, airlines have poured their marketing budgets into that very silhouette. There are flight attendant uniform museums for a reason.

It looks like glamour. And the historical legacies certainly encourage that impression.

So the question becomes: “Are you drawn to the responsibilities of the uniform, or just the image of the uniform?”

Eek, what a question. Puts a bit of a lump in the throat. But recruiters will want to know. Not because it makes for a clever interview trap — but because they’ve seen the delusion before.

And the truth is… so have I.

I spot versions of myself all the time now — hopeful, appearance-driven applicants tangled in old wives’ tales. They flood socials with selfies and hairfies, fretting over lipstick shades and haircuts.

They’ve mistaken the marketing for the job. They see the uniform as style, not status. As glamour, not responsibility. That’s why they confuse photo requirements and scar declarations with beauty assessments. That’s why there’s body shaming and rumours of secret waist circumference tests. And that’s where things begin to fray because:

It’s not just a tailored silhouette or a matching lipstick shade
— it’s a coded badge of trust.

While the uniform might look like fashion, it functions like clearance. It signals authority and grants identity. With the right credentials behind it, that uniform gets you past airside security, onto the aircraft, and into the safety briefing. It earns you a place in the chain of command.

Nowhere is that more evident than in the iconic clipped wing.

Pinned to the lapel of many uniforms is a single clipped wing.

These are not typically the full, gleaming insignia worn by flight crew — those are dual wings, solid, balanced, whole. They represent the highest of ranks, earned through hundreds of hours in the flight deck.

The clipped wing is a symbol of partial command. Cabin crew aren’t flying the plane. And in the early days, if you were a woman, you weren’t even considered capable of it. The wing was clipped before you ever reached the runway.

Back in the golden era, if stewardesses reached the dreaded age of “womb sickness,” the airline clipped your wing from your bosomy go-go dress and tossed you on the slag heap. That sexist legacy still lingers in the rumours and assumptions.

At first glance, a single wing seems to imply support, not leadership. Service, not strategy. Presence — but not power. You’re in the chain of command, yes. Just not quite at the centre of it.

But, here’s the rub. The pin shows half a wing, but the job demands a flock. Cabin crew are trained in emergency response, conflict deescalation, first aid, fire containment, evacuation. They don’t just serve the flight; they safeguard it. And when something goes wrong at 35,000 feet, it’s often the ones with the half wing who act first — and last.

Clipped does not mean lesser. Clipped means chosen. Trained. Trusted. It’s a symbol not just of service — but of responsibility.

Focusing only on the glamour is like saying you want a dog because it’s cute in photos — but forgetting it also poos, chews your sofa, and needs walking in the rain.

Do you want to be cabin crew… or do you just want to be seen as cabin crew? It’s a real question.

The wanting part is easy. Plenty do. The fantasy is seductive — red heels, hotel keys, jet lag and tiny wine bottles. But the reality? Not everyone knows the reality of the position. They forget this is the aviation industry. That’s exactly what this question is designed to reveal — and why recruiters want to hear your answer.

Can you describe the role without the Instagram filter? Do you know what lives beneath the lipstick and lanyard? And when the glitter settles, are you still choosing this — on purpose, with your eyes open?

When recruiters ask “Why do you want to become cabin crew?”, there are five layers hidden within this one question — and each one reveals something different about you.

Why

Why cabin crew?

do YOU

Why you, specifically? What do you bring?

want

What’s driving your want?

to BECOME

Is it the reality of the role you’re drawn to, or just the image?

Cabin Crew?

Do you even know what the job actually involves?

In this lesson, we’re focusing squarely on the last layer: What do you know about the role?

Let’s open that up. Let’s challenge it. Let’s make sure your knowledge is built on understanding, not fantasy.

During Emirates training, we were polished on service and plunged into chaos, often within the same morning. This role doesn’t ease you in. It hurls. The glamour and the gore — served side by side, like canapés and catastrophe — or from ovens to oxygen…

Ground School

From ovens to oxygen

Very few are prepared for the whiplash: one moment you’re learning to pour champagne like a five-star maître d’, and the next, you’re watching childbirth in full HD — no placenta spared. Before you’ve recovered, you’re thrust into a ditching reenactment: alarms blaring, lights strobing, passengers panicking as they inflate their vests before evacuating the aircraft — a fatal mistake, and one you’ll never unsee.

And that’s the point. This job isn’t compartmentalised. It doesn’t politely ask if you’re ready for the shift from heels to havoc. It just shifts, mid-flight, mid-sentence, mid-smile. So, let’s get you grounded in some of that reality.

Nothing replaces lived experience, but video footage can get you frighteningly close. So consider this your complementary in-flight horror reel. But don’t worry, I’ll give you a big warning before thrusting you into chaos.

Strap in. Viewer discretion advised. Some of these videos are vivid and graphic depictions of passenger and/or scenarios you might one day face onboard.

After you’ve sat with the discomfort for a moment, return to your earlier definition of the role.

• Has anything shifted?
• What poked at your nerves?
• Could you honestly see yourself in their ranks?…
• …Or would you still be hiding behind the beverage cart, waiting for someone braver to take over?

Back when I was applying, I wouldn’t just have been hiding. I’d have changed out of my uniform, plonked myself in seat 42B, and pretended I was a passenger. “Crew? Me? No, no, I’m just here for the chicken or chocolates.”

Now picture this: a recruiter fixes you with that polite-but-deadly eagle-eyed smile and asks point blank: “What do you think the role of cabin crew involves?”

If you’re enrolled in a cabin crew college programme, you already know the role well — safety briefings, doors and slides, service routines, emergency procedures. If you’re not, you’ve scraped together knowledge from the videos above, or perhaps from books and forums.

Both are useful, yes — and certainly more than I mustered at eighteen. But knowledge is the base. What matters next is how you apply it — how you take what you know and shape it into answers that sound considered, not laminated. Because if the best response you can offer is:

“Well, I know the job is primarily about safety and security, and in the event of an emergency, it is our job to wear all hats, from delivering babies to fighting fires and performing CPR.”

…that’s great, and it’s a start. It’s already more than some will say — but it’s not exactly inspiring. It has the warmth of a safety card, and sounds recited from one too. It’s no better than rattling off a cheatsheet.

So, before we close out this lesson, let’s take a quick look at how you can begin shaping your knowledge into stories.

You’ll usually be asked this question in an essay or at the final interview, so you have space and time to elaborate. And whilst you have the recruiter’s undivided attention, use it.

Take a look at this answer:

“I’ve known for some time that the real responsibilities of cabin crew are safety and security, but those had always been abstract meanings until recently.

I was doing my usual online Airline binge-watching saga when I came across a reenactment of the emergency that occurred aboard British Airways Flight 5390 where the pilot was sucked out the window .

What really hit me was the unpredictability and speed to which it unfolded. There was no training manual for such a situation and the cabin crew responded using nothing more than instinct. That’s when I really understood the true gravity of this role. It goes far beyond a list of memorised procedures; it’s about applying judgement under stress, maintaining composure when everything is unraveling, and communicating clearly — often with people who are scared, confused, or panicking.

The emergency aboard that flight was caused by nothing more than a 0.66mm screw size deviation, and yet its impact was nearly fatal had it not been for the fast acting cabin crew. And I realised that’s the epitome of the role, cabin crew are on board for that 0.66mm deviation, to prevent and respond to those unlikely events.”

See the difference? The first answer merely tossed out a string of words. The second? It spun a story, anchored in detail, humming with understanding. It shows recruiters you don’t just know the role — you’ve thought about it, peeled back its layers, and stepped right into its heart.

The marrow is in the details. That’s what transforms you from sounding like an applicant to sounding like crew.

We’ll learn more about shaping answers as we move forward in this journey. Right now, however, “Congratulations”. You’ve made it through to the end of your induction. Next we step inside Virgin Atlantic Headquarters where you’ll really begin applying your deadheading duties.