Christine Schoefer shares about her packing process and how plans can go awry.
Vacation season has begun and if you’re planning a trip, the matter of packing looms. I always imagine I’ll be a different person when I arrive at my destination: someone more daring in matters of style, untouched by considerations of comfort. Strolling in Copenhagen or Milan, my dress flutters in the warm breeze, my toenails flash like chili peppers, my hair stays lively until midnight. I negotiate cobble stones on high heels. Going from one city to another, I’m never burdened with suitcases.
In real life though, luggage is a problem so I took a workshop: How to pack for three weeks in one carry-on. Afterwards, I stacked two layered outfits, four sets of microfiber underwear and one pair of sneakers. Hmm. My vision of casual elegance seduced me into last-minute shopping: a pair of gorgeous high-heeled sandals and a flattering wide-brimmed straw hat. Neither fit into the carry-on, so I got out the big suitcase. That had plenty of room for my fantasies.
From the back of my closet, I retrieved rarely worn items: flowy dresses, a wildly patterned miniskirt, a wrinkle-prone linen shift, jeans, another hat. I disregarded raincoat, fleece jacket, warm socks. It was summer, right?
I wandered the streets of Berlin wearing a silky blue dress and my new sandals. Like Cinderella’s sisters, I bit down on the pain when my feet started hurting. The next day, a thunderstorm made me wish I’d packed raingear. On day three, I subdued my hair into a ponytail, put on jeans and a plain shirt, and bought a pair of wide flat sandals because my stylish sneakers did not accommodate blisters. The ordinary me had reclaimed her place; most of the items in my suitcase never saw the light of day.