The Dress I'll Wear to the Party
And a few tips for packing a suitcase
This is Clouds Form Over Land, weekly-ish writing about life at sea and going ashore.
I’ve been making my own clothes for just about a decade now, but thinking about what to wear for much longer.
Taking an interest in clothing and appearances is slippery ground for us humans. We are scrutinized by the statements we make and socialized to feel the whole effort is vapid and silly. I don’t consider myself interested in fashion or shopping or clothing design, and yet I’ve spent countless hours cutting, pinning, stitching, knitting, altering, hemming, and hawing. Even more time has been spent scrolling indie patterns on Instagram and Ravelry; saving more garments to favorites than can be held in the crafting sessions of a lifetime.
As a kid, I loved changing my Barbie’s outfits and watching Project Runway. I recall feeling overweight by the end of elementary school and overjoyed when my hair settled into a workable curl in high school. I spent more time swimming than preening and felt that a sense of style was for other people. I watched What Not to Wear and wondered if my loved ones would ever turn me in for such a public and emotional rollercoaster. With more years under my belt, I can see that most of the show’s participants had gotten overextended on caring for others and let their presentation fall to the way side. How sweet and strange to get sorted out all in one swoop.
As I pick up my digital pen and get back to my writing practice, I'm going through the drafts folder and selecting those that feel like they still need to be said. I wrote this post in May when I opportunistically went to Michigan to visit my family while our sailing journey was halted by bad weather.
While home, I went through some storage boxes of books and encountered The Dress I’ll Wear to the Party by Shirley Nietzel and felt a jolt of joy at the sight of the green, purple, and yellow squares on the cover. The book is about fashion and more than fashion.
Our clothes are some of the strongest and most constant sensory inputs we experience, as they tug (or don’t!) on our joints, limbs, and fleshy parts, scratch or slide over our skin, and keep us protected from the elements —and eyes around us. Other animals in the kingdom flaunt their natural beauty too, but we humans have a supply chain behind our personal expressions. Each garment and accessory is an opportunity to say, “hey, this is me!” or “shh, I’m camouflaging today” or something else entirely.
In The Dress I’ll Wear to the Party, the unnamed child presents each item and its location in the outfit lovingly. She reveals the final fit to her mother, who then admires the look and sends her off to style from her own closet. I loved books like this that followed a certain pattern and didn’t skimp on the details. This one feels orderly and playful and somewhat pointlessly purposeful.
Shirley Nietzel has another book called The Bag I’ll Pack for Grandma’s. I’ve been on the move a lot lately, and this time without bringing our boat and all my possessions with me. What I pack has taken on more importance as the landscape changes from the open ocean to small mountain towns, a state park, and the rush of New York City. It's easy to feel out of place when we're away from our places and I've found clothes and activities to fill the spare moments really help.
The stress of our sailing voyage and heat of the tropics added several inches to my waistline and figuring out what to wear as I rejoin the masses has been somewhat loaded. Garments that I spent hours making don't suit me the way they used to and many of my mainstays are a bit ragged from the rigor of life on a boat. My budget is limited, but I'm putting my best foot forward. Finding this beloved kids book reminded me that it's worthwhile and sweet to put thought into presentation, especially if it helps me feel good and grounded.
So anyways, here are a few tips on packing from my recent trips:
Pack light
My pro-packing tip is to skimp wherever possible. Having a smaller bag helps when lugging items over bumpy terrain, cramming into a vehicle, or having plans change in some way.
When packing for Michigan, I omitted tees and sweats and borrowing them from my mom only increased the feeling of being home. On other trips, I've left out items I planned to buy while there like a souvenir sweatshirt. On other trips, I'll pack garments, books, or toiletries at the end of their life so I can leave them behind and free up space.
Embrace chaos
We've probably all experienced the pre-trip closet explosion at some point. While packing last week, I decided to flip things up and embrace the inevitable by putting any garment that fit the weather forecast and dress code in a pile on the bed, separated by body part. Then I paired down by putting away the least comfortable items and garments that only complemented one or two other garments. Then I paired down even further with the number of days and nights in mind. The photo above has the bag I brought camping on the right and the discarded maybe pile on the left.
Create new combinations
Last summer, we left the boat and cat in Bocas del Toro and came back to the US to visit family during hurricane season. Our voyage included a water taxi ride, small plane, car taxi, big plane, and a train, so we decided to pack carryons only.
I sketched out the items I wanted to bring, tallied the tops and bottoms, and then counted the total outfits created by combinations. Six tops, six bottoms, and three dresses shoke out to twenty eight outfits.
The trip was initially scheduled for twelve days and twenty eight outfits seemed quite sufficient. When the trip was extended to five weeks due to protests in Panama over the rising cost of living, the capsule wardrobe still held up.