Introduction
Packing used to be chaotic. I’d wait until the night before, toss half my closet into a suitcase, forget something important, and end up buying overpriced replacements at the airport or hotel gift shop. Every time I unpacked, I’d find four pairs of socks I never wore, three pairs of shoes I didn’t need, and no phone charger. Always. Without fail.
Eventually, I stopped pretending I was going to change outfits three times a day. I started paying attention to what I actually used. What I wore. What I reached for over and over again—not just on trips but at home too. Once I figured that out, packing got a lot simpler.
Now, I can pack in under 15 minutes. A backpack if I’m flying carry-on. A small duffel if I’m driving somewhere. It’s the same stuff every time, adjusted for weather. No more overthinking. No more just-in-case items that never get touched.
Here’s what always makes the cut.
A pair of broken-in sneakers that I’ve walked entire cities in. Not stylish, not pristine, but they’ve never let me down. I don’t need different shoes for dinner unless it’s something fancy, and if it’s something fancy, I usually decide I don’t want to go. These shoes know me. They’ve been through rain, dirt roads, bad dance floors, and questionable gas station bathrooms. They’ve earned their place.
One jacket that does everything. Lightweight, packable, rain-resistant, warm enough for layering. I used to pack for different “vibes”—a denim jacket for casual, a blazer for looking like I have a job, a hoodie for downtime. Now I pack the one that makes me feel like myself no matter what the plan is.
A tiny pouch of first-aid basics. Band-aids. Ibuprofen. Antihistamine. Those little packets of electrolyte powder. The one time I didn’t bring this stuff, I got a blister and a headache in the middle of nowhere, and I swore I’d never be that unprepared again. Now it lives in my bag, always.
A packable tote bag. Folds down to nothing, but can carry groceries, laundry, souvenirs, or an extra layer when the weather surprises you. It’s the one thing I use every time I travel and never used to bring.
When it comes to clothes, I pack fewer than I think I’ll need. A few neutral tops, one sweater, jeans, leggings, something to sleep in, one outfit that makes me feel like I actually tried. If I need something else, I wash what I brought or I borrow from whoever I’m visiting. I’ve never regretted packing less.
Toiletries are where things used to get out of control. Travel-sized everything, ziplock bags, multiple makeup options I’d never use. Now I keep it lean. One moisturizer. One SPF. A small glass jar with a few cotton pads. A reusable razor. No gimmicks.
The one thing that used to trip me up was shampoo. I hated bringing bottles. They’d leak or take up too much space. But skipping shampoo wasn’t an option either—my hair is picky and punishes me if I get lazy.
That’s when I found bar shampoo. At first I thought it was just another trend—cute, but probably ineffective. But I grabbed one before a trip just to try, and I’ve never gone back. It’s solid, takes up no space, doesn’t count as a liquid, and actually makes my hair feel clean without stripping it. I keep it in a small tin, let it dry out between uses, and it lasts forever. Way easier than trying to squeeze the last bit out of a hotel bottle that smells like cleaning spray.
Also, no one tells you how many lip balms you’ll go through while traveling. I used to lose them constantly or find one melted in a pocket. Now I carry just one, and it happens to be a zero waste lip balm that comes in a compostable tube. No plastic twisty bits, no cap that disappears. It’s sturdy, does its job, and has survived both freezing temps and summer heat without turning into goo.
In the same pouch, I keep a solid deodorant, a travel toothbrush, and a small tin of multi-use balm that can work on dry hands, frizzy hair, or mosquito bites. One product, three jobs.
I’ve also learned to bring earplugs and an eye mask. Not because I’m a delicate sleeper, but because you never know when you’ll end up in a room next to a highway or a hotel with motion-sensor hallway lights that flash through your window all night. These two tiny things have saved my sleep more times than I can count.
My favorite thing to bring is a small book—one I’ve already read but don’t mind reading again. Familiar enough to feel cozy, but not so gripping that I’ll stay up until 3 a.m. finishing it. I used to bring two or three, or pack my Kindle, but I’ve learned that one is enough. If I finish it, I leave it behind for someone else to find.
I also carry a few non-essentials that have earned their place. A roll of washi tape (good for marking pages, sealing snacks, fixing torn things). A foldable spork (the number of times this has come in handy is kind of hilarious). A little packet of sticky notes. A mini sketchbook and pen for when I’m too tired to write but still want to remember a moment.
What I don’t bring anymore: backup outfits I don’t feel good in. Shoes that hurt. Products I’m “trying to finish.” High-maintenance anything. Travel is already unpredictable. I don’t need my stuff making it harder.
The things I carry now aren’t perfect. They’re just the ones that show up, day after day, place after place, and quietly make things easier. Not because they’re the newest or trendiest, but because they work.
Conclusion
And that’s all I want in my bag. Stuff I can trust. Stuff I don’t have to think about. Things that know how to travel, just like I’m still figuring out how to do.
