Three weeks, one carry on suitcase and a tote bag. That’s how I roll. Don’t think you could ever possibly manage? Here’s how.
First, let me give you the details of the trip I packed for.
I went to Spain and Morocco, with an itinerary that went like this:
-Back to Granada
-Back to Madrid
Five different locations (two of them twice), five hotels, a friend’s apartment, and an artist’s residence.
Transportation included planes, trains, buses, cars, and a ferry.
Each city had distinct wardrobe requirements. For example, Madrid is a cosmopolitan city where everyone dresses fashionably and chic.
Then I would be spending time in Granada, exploring the city and wandering around the Alhambra in the hot Spanish sun.
After Granada, I would be at an artist’s residence for two weeks, which is located in a hot (+104˚ F) dry valley in the middle-of-nowhere Andalucia. (I was there to work on a book I am writing—more on that in the future.)
From there, I would go back to Granada for a night, and then head south to visit the beachy but sophisticated little Spanish village, Marbella, on the Costa del Sol.
I would then hop a ferry to Tangier—and I’d be there during Ramadan, which meant I should be respectfully covered.
At the end of the three weeks, I had to look reasonably put together for another day and a half in Madrid before flying home.
So you can see how packing for this trip had its challenges.
Here’s how I did it, and I can assure you I didn’t need a single additional item of clothing.
On the transatlantic flight I wore black leggings and a tunic-length blue cotton shirt, with a pair of navy blue flip flops. In a tote bag, I carried my trusty cashmere poncho, a silk scarf, and a pair of fold-up leather slip-on shoes, to keep me warm on the predictably over-refrigerated plane.
I chose a specific color palette of navy, white, and grey, and packed the following:
Two pairs skinny jeans that could be rolled up or down—one regular weight dark wash, and one lighter weight faded wash.
One pair navy “travel pants”. (My new favorite thing.)
One pair knee length denim shorts, to wear at the artist’s residence.
White three-quarter length sleeve cotton shirt. Arms could be rolled up for short-sleeved option.
Blue and white striped lace-up placket shirt.
Cream eyelet short sleeved top.
T-shirts: dark blue, grey, white. (Gotta have t-shirts.)
Sleeveless silk shirt. Essential for hot weather travel. Takes up very little space, and could be worn with everything, everywhere.
Navy sleeveless silk dress that could also be worn as a long tunic over the navy slim pants. Good for a hot day or a night out.
The silk dresses were a godsend—they folded into virtually nothing, and creases either didn’t show (in the case of the print) or smoothed out once hung up. Which reminds me of another tip—creases can be eliminated with a shot of heat from a hair dryer.
3 pairs pajama pants with t-shirts.
Ten pairs of underwear. (Packed in cloth pouch. Was able to wash halfway through the trip.)
The hardest thing to do is limit the number of shoes. I bit the bullet and limited my footwear to three pairs—I wore the navy flip flops and packed a pair of black patent flat sandals, for a dressier footwear option. Then I threw in a pair of mesh pull-on sneakers, for a non-sandal option. I typically include a pair of rubber-soled ballet flats, but they didn’t seem appropriate for this particular trip.
Light nylon raincoat, folded into flat nylon pouch. Never needed it but if I hadn’t packed it, it would have definitely rained. Murphy’s Law.So that’s how I did it. You can follow my lead—make adjustments to the list according to your destination and the clothes you own.