By Dawn Gilbertson

I was nestled in suite 12A, glass of sparkling wine on the way, when a boy boarding the flight to London marveled at the cushy cubbies in the front of the plane. "Someday, bud. Someday," his mom told him.

My "someday" had arrived.

Airlines are in an arms race to whisk big-spending travelers abroad in style, confident the premium travel surge has legs. They are adding more business-class suites with comfier beds, dreamy linens, the latest tech, privacy doors and upgraded meals. United Airlines has announced coming caviar service, and there is talk of a Champagne button.

So it was time for me, a back-of-the-plane habitué, to try the trans-Atlantic lie-flat life glorified on social media. It was a pricey experiment: The Wall Street Journal paid $4,800 for a one-way ticket from Philadelphia to London in American Airlines' new Flagship Suites and $2,600 for a one-way flight from Nice to Newark on La Compagnie, a small French carrier that has only business class.

Was it worth it? Today, I size up American; next week, La Compagnie.

American pioneered airport lounges and was the first U.S. airline to introduce sit-down dining in a business-class lounge. But in recent years, its business-class offerings have trailed United and Delta Air Lines. (All three lack some of the luxe features found on international carriers.)

The new Flagship Suites, which were introduced in June and include the airline's first sliding privacy doors, are designed to close any gap in travelers' minds. That and the math behind my ticket -- an economy seat on the same flight cost just $518 -- were top of my mind going into this experiment.

My first impression arriving at the airport in Philadelphia? Underwhelmed.

I've seen those private check-in areas that American, Delta and United offer business-class passengers at some major airports, occasionally including an exclusive TSA line. So I was disappointed to find a standard priority line in Philadelphia. No one even uttered the words business class or Flagship. I even had to lift my own bag onto the scale. (The horror!)

American's new Flagship lounge in Philadelphia is a nice retreat where passengers are greeted with glasses of Veuve Clicquot. But I found it to be less luxurious than Delta's new Delta One lounges or even the airport's sprawling new Chase Sapphire Lounge.

The star of the show emerges upon boarding. American has increased the number of Flagship Suites from 30 to 51 on these new 787s. So passengers are greeted with a sea of fancy seats.

Eight of the suites are plusher than the rest. They are called Flagship Suites Preferred and feature more room, bigger TVs, better linens and amenity kits and PJs. I was surprised to find those weren't standard in the "regular" suites like mine.

Kalimah Jenkins, a real estate lawyer from Georgia, is a business-class aficionado who monitors new planes and features. She read all about the new Flagship Suites and went out of her way to take the American flight from Philadelphia to London. She found a last-minute steal using miles and snagged a preferred seat a couple of rows in front of me. She slept most of the trip.

"It was very, very comfortable," she says.

Our 10:15 p.m. departure time wasn't ideal for soaking in everything about the business-class life, but I tried. I reclined the seat, threw the blanket on and didn't say no to anything that came my way after we took off around 11:15 p.m.

And plenty came my way. Some reviews have dinged the airline for slow service since there are so many more business-class suites on the new planes with the same number of flight attendants. But I was never lacking for attention.

11:20 p.m.: "Hello Ms. Gilbertson, I see you've ordered the pasta. What would you like to drink?" (The French Sauvignon Blanc, please.)

11:30: Hot towels.

11:58: Warm nuts, olives and said wine, served on a cloth-covered tray table.

12:27 a.m.: Dinner delivered. Smoked mozzarella manicotti and salad. "Would you care for white, wheat or pretzel bread?"

12:28: Flight attendant to one member of the bachelor party behind me: "How's your gin and tonic? Still OK? You need ice or anything?"

My notes at this point say: "Good lord, this is the life!"

12:37: "How's your wine, Ms. Gilbertson?"

12:45: Häagen-Dazs caramel and hot fudge sundae in a glass dish.

12:53: Dishes cleared.

I finally tried to sleep just after 1 a.m., putting the seat in full lie-flat mode and crawling under the covers, head burrowed into the full-size pillow. I'm a lousy sleeper in general, and it didn't help that I struggled to turn the bright screen off. The guy in front of me had the same issue, and the flight attendants said we were all learning the setup at the same time. The suites are so new there is a laminated, 16-point guide and a two-minute, instructional video.

Bedtime was over before I knew it. At 4:43 a.m. a flight attendant slid my door open and said, "Good morning! Would you care for breakfast?" On the menu: a mushroom, leek and asparagus frittata, fruit bowl and choice of biscuit, croissant or cinnamon roll.

It was nearly 10 a.m. in London, and we were about to land. And there is the rub: There wasn't enough time on this 6 1/2 -hour, late-night flight to enjoy the dual benefits of a nearly $5,000 ticket: pampering and horizontal sleep. It's either/or. For its part, American says the main thing it is selling is sleep.

Would it be a dream to fly like this all the time? Of course.

But for my (not unlimited) money, I'd save the lie-flat life for a longer flight or special-occasion splurge unless someone else is paying the tab. For $5,000, I could take my mom on a two-week trans-Atlantic cruise with spending money to spare.

Write to Dawn Gilbertson at dawn.gilbertson@wsj.com

(END) Dow Jones Newswires

September 09, 2025 21:00 ET (01:00 GMT)

Copyright (c) 2025 Dow Jones & Company, Inc.