How does an astronaut look like?

The image most people carry is of the white extravehicular suit: a rigid torso shell, fabric limbs, a backpack holding oxygen, water and batteries, and a helmet whose outer visor carries a microscopically thin gold coating that cuts glare and infrared. Russian Orlan suits are recognisable by their blue trim and rear-entry hatch. The pressure suits worn for launch and re-entry are different garments altogether, thinner and lighter, designed to inflate only if the cabin loses pressure.

Most of an astronaut's working life is spent out of any suit. Aboard the station the uniform is a polo shirt and trousers with a great many pockets, plus socks; shoes are pointless where nobody walks, and the tops of the feet develop calluses from being hooked under handrails while the soles go soft. Hair drifts upwards, so long hair is tied back or left to form a halo, and the same clothes are worn for days because there is no laundry.

The body itself changes shape within hours. With nothing pulling blood and lymph towards the legs, fluid collects in the chest and head: faces look rounder and flushed, neck veins stand out and the legs thin down, a combination crews describe as puffy face and bird legs. The spine decompresses, so astronauts are measurably taller in orbit than on the ground, and a permanent head-cold stuffiness blunts taste and smell. None of it is permanent; the look reverses within days of landing, although bone and muscle take far longer to recover.