Ladies: does packing stress you out?
I think it does for most of us, but this is usually overshadowed by the thrill of going on a trip, that fun little holiday that necessitates those agonizing moments (hours) over the open suitcase.
I ask the ladies specifically, because I don't think the guys have to break it up in pieces like we do, nor with such care and consideration.
Pieces, you ask? You know the drill: there's What You Pack The Night Before, and then What You Shove in the Bag Last-Minute Once You're Finished Beautifying Yourself Right Before You Leave for the Airport.
That in itself is a challenge. I know you all know. Staring at the outfit you chose to travel in the next morning, wondering if you should have packed it and instead should wear the closed-toed shoes through the airport so you only have to walk through the crusty security line in socks rather than pad through in your recently, ready-for-vacay, perfectly manicured footsies.
Grabbing 10 extra contact lenses in case...what? You get in 9 different staring contests within a few feet of a concrete saw? Why do we do that?
Always, always, always forgetting your razor in the shower. Your perfect razor, with the 6 or 7 blades on it, so you know you'll have to make do with those old-fashioned 3-bladed ones you'll pick up at the drugstore.
And then there's the matter of where you're going. Is the climate the same? Probably not. Is it for a special event involving folks you don't know with an ambiguous dress code? The Triple Trauma? Most assuredly.
Honestly, I think this is the universal moment here. When all of us, maybe even you dudes, look at our closets and are certain that we have nothing to wear.
And how do we work through the anxiety of those 3 foes? Seriously, can any of you imagine what 55 degrees feels like when it's been 90 degrees for 5 days in a row? I can't. I can hardly look at a sweater after this past week. It makes my skin crawl.
And how do we represent ourselves to folks we've never met, but who have heard lots about us? Hm...must look good, obviously. But if it's family on his side, must also look respectable. And don't want to dress down too far, clearly. But dressing up too much makes you look snooty.
Ah, ye olde dilemma de damsel: Must Look Hot Without Looking Skanky, Appear Effortlessly Dazzling Without Ruffling Feathers.
Is your partner helpful in such times? Never. "Nah, just wear jeans," he says. You ask if he's going to wear jeans. "No, probably nicer pants. But you could wear jeans." What? Argh.
My go-to answer, always: Pack Black. Though I love the browns and greens, black comes through again and again. Dangly earrings and heels instantly turn the black shirt/jeans into "nice" (but not ho-baggish). Little Black Dress? We all know and love you. Black heels? Thank you for all you've done for me, you know I love you.
And then, the Clincher. The ultimate backup, the thing that reminds us that it'll all be okay, the thing that helps us get proper beauty sleep the night before the trip:
If we really need something, we can just go out and buy it.
Yeah. The Beauty Sleep wasn't quite what it ought to have been last night.
Oh, well. San Francisco, here I come. Family reunion-ish thing on B's side, I am comin' at you with a suitcase full of black and a lovely variety of earrings.
And if no outfit works tomorrow night, I've got a date with a hotel bathrobe and Harry Potter. I think that'll help me sleep.
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