OK maybe the title isn’t one of my better literary efforts but this is what happens after two days of trying to pack a suitcase and being unsuccessful. The embarrassing part is that this is not my first trip to the rodeo (I did not just use that cliche.) I had decluttered most of my wardrobe, matching outfits with jewelry etc. It would have been a cunning and clever plan IF I had tried on everything first. It also had another fatal flaw (see how I’m building the dramatic tension?). I had a closet full of black pants and matched each one with a suitable top. Unfortunately I cannot bring 9 pairs of black pants with me and not all work with all the tops. There are four variations on a yoga pant. One is comfortable, a bit worn and the draw string really shows when under a top. The second is newer, has a more subtle waistband but a small paint stain on one leg. The third is a soft wide leg with pockets but keeps on lengthening due to the material. The fourth is the newest but too figure fitting to wear with any shirt that doesn’t cover the bum. Did I mention the dress pants with the faint pin strip in case I need to look businesslike, the flowing pants that would be great for the opera, the clam diggers or the two pairs of thick leggings with faux leather applique? Of course I have two because the applique on one is on the side of the legs and the other is on the knees.
I will spare you the horrors of the toppings section ( I feel like an ice cream sundae), but I came back to the struggle between style and comfort. What looked good was not necessarily what I could wear on the sort of multi climate zone trip I was going to take. Unlike decluttering blouses and sweaters I found letting go of pants too hard. My lifestyle requires clothes I can trash with my sculpting. My textiles get lint on everything. I have clothes for that so I don’t go out looking like I’ve rolled in an old man’s jacket pocket.
Bit by bit the pile of working clothes has grown out of control as well. I justify that I can turn them into rugs one day but the chances are slim.
The truth is that by hanging on to all the “almost works” pants I didn’t realize that I did not have a basic black pant that was great. The clutter of “must keep” clothing didn’t let me know what I needed. Slowly I started matching the tops I wanted to take with the pants as they lay on the bed. A clear winner emerged for the yoga pants that would serve for hiking and a slim pair for the boots that would walk me around Istanbul. The tops had to either go with one of these two pairs to make the cut. I allowed myself one skirt and though I only have three, one is for summer, one is in a different colour theme and the lucky winner manages to work with three of the tops.
I learned I had no sweaters, no fleece, no raincoat and 16 camisoles. Over the next few months I will try and refine the wardrobe into wearable outfits that mix and match and fit properly. If I can also manage to get a cool hair style and balance my budget I will have pulled a hat trick of domestic bliss. I am reluctant to get rid of things that still fit. It seems counter intuitive but if I know what I really need I won’t waste money buying the wrong thing. Maybe the next time I want to get away I will be able to pack in less time than I will spend on my vacation.
Leaving you a trail of breadcrumbs out of the forest, Deb