Last night, I braved humiliation (cross-continental air travel in multi-colored pajamas) and jet lag to attend Victoria's Secret and Virgin American Airlines' first pajama party in the sky. Seriously.

I arrived at JFK, along with Tia Williams, of the blog Shake Your Beauty and my mother's womb, for a pre-boarding reception at the Virgin Airlines gate with food, drinks, low-tier models milling about wearing Victoria's Secret flannel pajamas (tied artfully to reveal midriffs and paired with stilettos), airport workers ogling said models, and a table with free pajamas for those, unlike myself, who had not taken the "wear pajamas" instructions to heart. I took a pair, anyway.

The crowd was a mix of Virgin and Victoria's Secret employees, press, some excited sweepstakes winners, and, hilariously, a handful of extremely confused civilians who had purchased what they thought was a normal ticket to LAX and instead found themselves among a throng of pajama wearers and flashbulbs. Most of them went with the flow, which was generous, considering that the flight was very delayed. This was due in part to the not-so-timely arrival of the pajama party's hostesses, Selita Ebanks and Miranda Kerr, who smiled beautifully for pictures before ducking onto the plane, where they greeted all the passengers as we entered. Selita liked my PJs, in case you're wondering. She also liked Nick Cannon (maybe), so I'm not sure it was such a great compliment.

While Victoria's Secret did a nice job of hosting the "party," which was really more like a normal flight with lots of extras, including free booze and VS blankets and pillows, the main attraction was the plane. I had never flown Virgin, and I was duly impressed, both by the sassy pink mood-lighting, which apparently changes color depending on the time of day, and the lovely video touch-screens that allow you to watch TV, rent movies, play video games and chat with people in other seats. I spent the first minutes of the flight having an online conversation with Trent from Pink Is The New Blog, who was seated several seats away, until we decided that our jobs require us to chat on the Internet too much for us to do it while we're on a plane, too.

So impressed was I with the touch-screen that I could barely tear myself away to view the surreal, in-flight fashion show that ended with the low-tier models, Miranda, and Selita bouncing up the center aisle to first class while "Sexy Back" played over the intercom and the rest of the passengers cheered and whistled. After that, I had to take a nap. It was officially the weirdest flight ever. And now, after a very short night's sleep, I'm trying to make the most of a one-day trip to Los Angeles before I return to NYC tonight. The flight back does not require pajamas, although I'm considering changing into them after boarding. It was sort of embarrassing waiting at the cab stand and checking into the hotel in flannel pants, but there is definitely merit to wearing PJs during a six-hour flight. Consider me converted.