I have decided that I really dislike packing. Pre-committing and restricting my clothing choices to one suitcase for two weeks is really tricky. For example: what the feck does one wear to best blend in amongst the Brooklyn hipster crowd at an event such as the Great Googamooga? Yes, it is a real event, and indeed, Cam informs me just now that he has purchased our tickets. Rad.
The closest I have come to actually packing, is to stand in front of the wardrobe, staring. How do I decide whether they make the first cut, without trying each piece on? And when a combination has been assembled, do I photograph? Or enter said item and corresponding accessories into a database? Surely there must exist some kind of universal outfit algorithm I can use, which reduces it down to a simple yes or no.
So instead, I will procrastinate, by compiling my list of the top three things that will be in my suitcase:
1. Control undergarments
How could I set sail without my vast collection of lycra beauties? 80% of my wardrobe hinges on their sturdy construction. And I’m not under any illusion that they actually make me look slimmer. They simply iron out some of the bumpy bits that I would really rather be without.
I know there are women out there who regain their former taut midriffs six weeks post-birth (including one of my best friends), but I really do believe they are genetic freaks. I’ve long since resigned myself to the fact that
a) I didn’t have an especially taut midriff to start with, and
b) The wobbly, poochy bits are here to stay, unless I become one of those odd women who decides to take up body-building and painting themselves brown, eating only broccoli and boiled chicken breasts at each meal.
2. Cowboy boots
Love them. They go with lots of things to make me feel a bit cool.
3. Straightening iron
No explanation necessary. Mad hair has no place in these chronicles.