Leader of the Pack
The worst part of traveling? Unpacking when you come back. The second worst? Packing.
For me at least, packing is this angst-ridden exercise, because while there are many known factors — how many days you’ll be gone (so you pack that number of pairs of underwear, plus two to be safe), what activities you have planned (and the shoes required) — there are far too many unknown factors. Like weather abnormalities (yes, I have been rained on in L.A.), unplanned activities, cobblestone casualties, my own general fickleness…
And so my OCD takes over, and I am compelled to create a wardrobe spreadsheet for my trips. When I went to, say, Paris fashion week, which required much planning in terms of what designer to wear to what show, the spreadsheet could go on for pages. For each day, I would have to plan out each outfit, down to the underwear and jewelry (and sometimes perfume). For less stressful trips, I still find myself knee-deep in Excel, trying to foresee every possible fashion moment I may decide to have.
Needless to say, I am the queen of overpacking — and yet… and yet… there have been far too many times when I’ve found myself in a strange city, pounding the pavement looking for a Neiman’s where I could solve my fashion emergency. Sometimes I wonder if it’s all subconscious: I purposefully forget to pack something, just to have an excuse to shop. As if I need an excuse to shop.
Which means that my closet is full of souvenirs from my travels: that other, other pair of black Louboutins that I picked up in San Francisco, because I left the other pair at home. The black turtleneck I really needed because Paris in the springtime was colder than I remembered. The red La Perla bra from D.C. because I forgot to pack appropriate foundation for the evening dress slated to go with the silver Prada heels… and on and on. I gotta admit, though, these souvenirs are way cooler than those snow globes I collected as a kid…
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August 19th, 2005 10:47
Unplanned activities like meeting a great guy and having only clothes for traipsing about the Moroccan countryside. You know — those clothes you got at the Junior League Thrift Shop for five bucks a skirt, three dollars a t-shirt that you planned to discard when you got home. No makeup, no jewelry because you were going to be sweating and climbing over rocks and ruins and why bother with all that stuff?
And then you meet THIS GUY who is dressed in A SUIT and IS GORGEOUS and SOPHISTICATED and wants to take you out to dinner and what do you have to wear??
NOTHING!!!!!!!!
I really like the spreadsheet idea. I thought I was prepared with a Swiss Army knife, sunblock and imitrex, but I am in the minor leagues compared to you!
August 19th, 2005 10:58
Ack! That IS a fashion emergency… and no Neiman’s in sight. But think of it as a great opportunity — no, a mandatory excursion! — to go explore the souks!
August 22nd, 2005 18:04
Well, one can always accessorize!!! I had bought some great earrings! Fortunately, he didn’t seem to mind my lack of fancy clothes. But I will NOT make the same mistake again! When I see him next time, I will make sure to take drop-dead, knockout clothes so he will know exactly what he is dealing with! He succumbed to my charms at first. Now I will wow him with style and high heels!
March 13th, 2008 21:15
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