California Travel Wardrobe
Showing the process of creating a compact & versatile capsule wardrobe and the successes and setbacks along the way
I have been debating the relative frivolity of this article for days now: in a time of seriousness—elections, upheavals, the future—I feel the need to avoid earnestness. So perhaps it’s time for something lighter? Hence this piece.
Although fashion intensely interests me, I would not call myself a fashion blogger—and neither is this a typical fashion blog. First of all, I’ve long ceased to care about trends set by influencers or what other people would consider style. Second of all, I am more maker than wearer: as a middle-aged round-figure average-sized mom, I am hardly a model or a trend-setter myself. However, as a housewife I am faced with the duty of outfitting at least one person—myself—if not more, so wardrobe creation has a practical purpose for me. Thus in the event that this post might be useful to a few readers—and I presume most of them will be female—I’m going to document my recent duty of creating a travel wardrobe here. This is a follow-up to my earlier post on the basics of how to create such a wardrobe, if you want to understand the process.
I tend to spend my spare mental energies constructing some small creative endeavor, such as a Substack post. Hence, about two months before departure, I started musing over the following project and sketching out plans. Here, I unveil the process:
Project: Need travel wardrobe for October trip from the East Coast to Central California.
Length of trip: seven days.
Weather: uncertain. Could be chilly or even hot, on either coast. Most likely moderate—but changing drastically between morning and midday. (read: cold mornings)
Events to accommodate: Two overnight cross-country flights. One Sunday Mass. Daily Masses. At least one formal/semi-formal event. Possible more less formal events such as going out to dinner. Mostly casual visiting. Possible hiking. Shopping definitely. I keep hearing California is more casual than the East Coast, so I have to dial it down.
Goals: Fill one carryon. No checked luggage. No excess pieces. Minimum 7, maximum 15.
Needed combinations:
Top1+bottom1+overlayer1=all casual
Top2+bottom2+overlayer2=all dressy
Single unifying piece (SUP) = must match all or almost all above
SUP must be sufficiently versatile to be either casual or dressy with accessories
Also: shoes, accessories, jewelry, necessities such as PJs must also fit in carryon
Parameters to consider:
A woman’s dress is a gift to those she meets and those who see her. How can I best give the people I meet my gift?
I will be a house guest: some of my hosts I know well — others are strangers. Fortunately one of my hosts is a friend — and we share a shoe size.
Color palette: work from the season of the year crossed with the colors that actually look good on me from that season plus the styles I’m experimenting with plus the styles that are currently acceptable which suit me.
Additional parameters: I am traveling with my daughter. I should not look too different from her. Also if we harmonize our outfits, we can swap clothes.
I use the term “parameters” instead of “rules” when planning my wardrobe, arranging my house, or any other creative endeavor. Parameters are limits without being limitations: they are the real surfaces from which I bounce off of and gain momentum. More parameters means more clarity, more sure choices.
Working thesis: It’s autumn, so start with golds and bronzes, maybe burnt orange—fall standards. Add teal blue? (My current obsession: reveling in it before it goes out of style.)
Research Area #1: my own closet
Choice 1: I MUST wear my beloved new teal blue maxi sweater, seen below. Last summer, while doing fashion-show research I happened upon this look, which appealed to the punk rock emo teenager buried within my middle-aged soul:
Unfortunately I have never been tall, or had a gamine body type or could pull off converse sneakers. According to Fashionista daughter, I should avoid wearing anything oversized and unfitted, such as any of the above sweaters.
This wise advice did not stop me from immediately running out and buying a long slouchy sweater NWT from Cabelas at our thrift store and wearing it everywhere. I am old enough to be lax about my fashion sins: I like to think I look cosmopolitan at best, at worst, merely eccentric (Not homeless, as Fashionista Daughter dryly pronounces). Besides, I live in an artistic rural area, so most of the time, no one sees me wearing it outside of my fellow grocery shoppers. O blue maxi sweater! I promise you a seat on the plane to Cali.
Choice 2: prairie skirt! I also recently acquired a muted burnt orange maxi peasant skirt in my favorite fabric: garment-dyed embroidered cotton, which gives texture without weight. Perfect. Nice contrast with fav sweater, and the matching teal blue pashmina I own. (I always wear scarves: sort of like my signature item. Also I hate having a cold neck.)
I will probably end up bringing these black flats even though they are wearing out. Just too darn useful and still comfortable.
Oooh! I could bring my favorite floral chiffon peasant top. Contains both teal AND orange and gold AND looks good on me. Score on row 1. Also new possibilities: could add a piece in muted golden-green.
…I have a green peasant blouse which also goes with the orange skirt—but traveling so close to Halloween, might my figure suggest a pumpkin? A mortifying thought.
Need a second bottom piece. Do I have green jeans? Yes!—no, actually. Trying them on, I discover I actually have lost weight (thank you, Optavia!) and they no longer fit. Happy but sad. Shopping?
Also, this combo of casual plus dressy muddies the waters. Equation is:
Top2+Bottom1 or 2+overlayer1=neither truly dressy nor fully casual
Darn. Ok, need more pieces.
Shopping Thrift Store A:
A few days later, I go to the first thrift store and I find a quality soft white tee: practically NWT, a universal problem solver. I pause: I dislike white, and I try to avoid wearing basics, normally but it’s probably a better vibe for Cali anyhow.
No green jeans….BUT…I find a pair of lightweight cargoes in teal blue! Matches The Sweater. On sale! Score!
Updated equation:
top1+bottom1+overlayer1=white-tee+teal-cargos+fav-sweater=casual done!
top2+bottom2+overlayer2=floral-top+prairie-skirt+???
SUP:?
Shopping Thrift Store B:
Next trip, more expensive thrift store. Guardian Angel, please help me find good deals.
When I walk in the door, I spot on the first rack a crinkled pale pink windbreaker, trench coat style. In one of those completely subconscious moves that overtake me when shopping with said angel, I put it in my cart. My conscious mind is yelling: pale pink? That’s not in the autumn palette! Angel says: It will pack down. Plus it might rain. Later I discover the entire jacket can be mashed into its own pocket for a super-compact pack.
Next I find a blue velvet lace top that—can you believe it?—matches the blue pants I just bought. Score! Then on the same rack, a silk gold-and-teal paisley blouse. My 80’s child soul sings. Score! I also find a luscious white wool pashmina scarf which—canyoubelieveit?—matches the white tee. Score!
I also buy heeled leather zip ankle boots. Maybe an option for the skirt outfit? They are comfortable: must ask Fashionista how to wear them. But they will take up less room that my regular boots. I’m probably going to have to wear them on the plane. Heidi’s Rule: always wear the most bulky outfit you pack when traveling.
Returning home, I reassess the equations. And discover that in addition to the pale pink, I have a new problem: three dressy tops! I only needed one! Equations in a mess now. This is why shopping can cause more problems than it solves. And what about SUP??? Not solved at all.
Return to the Closet:
Found! Cool gold velvet Indian shoes bought by Fashionista daughter for me. Matches exactly. Score! Need to add shoes to the equation.
Also noted that I have two other sweaters that could conceivably match many outfits and add variety. Last year’s favorite orange sweater, and a rather sad cotton gold sweater: but is this too many sweaters for one trip??? Even for fall? And really, none of them are “dressy” if I’m being totally honest.
Then I remember the brown travel outfit, which my very-classy grandmother purchased and wore on her many travels. When she passed, my mother let me take it. The brown outfit consists of comfortable elastic waist pants and a matching waterfall-opening blazer. (I have an near identical outfit from her in purple, which I indulge in occasionally.)
I locate it. It’s heavy quality very packable nylon, warming-yet-cool, but does it match anything? Yes! The silk paisley blouse. But is it too shiny? Too old for an already-aging traveler? Too dated? When I have it set out on the bed amidst my other possibilities, Fellow Traveler daughter points to it and says, “I wish you would wear that. I think it will look nice. You should wear it on the plane.”
Well, your dress is a gift to others. I acquiesce. Brown travel-suit+silk-paisley is officially on the plane, together with brown ankle shoes. This adds a third row. But… it DOES solve the equation! And I am staying there for a week, so packing another set of clothes is reasonable. Look!
Top1+bottom1+overlayer1=casual=
white-tee+teal-cargos+windbreaker+black-flats
Top2+bottom2+overlayer2=dressy=
flower-blouse+prairie-skirt+fav-sweater+gold-shoes
Top3+bottom3+overlayer3=travel=
silk-paisley+brown-slacks+brown-blazer+brown-heels
SUP: ???
Except for the obvious missing piece: the single unifying piece. What color should it be? Travel rule: avoid too many pieces in the same color. So it can’t be orange or brown or (sniff) blue. It could be a print, but probably not. What color?
Gold. Then I remember.
Research Area #2: My Daughters’ Closets
“Do you still have that gold embroidered summer dress?” I asked Fellow Traveler daughter. Yes, yes she did. I wondered: because of dieting success, could it possibly fit me?
Unbelievably, yes, why yes it did. And it matched gold flats AND silk-paisley blouse.
Success.
From the same daughter, I agreed to borrow sandals in case it was hot, and Fashionista loaned me a silk kerchief to go with my travel outfit.
Now I had the task of whittling down the sweaters. It turns out that the burnt orange sweater did not really match the burnt orange skirt. There was just enough of a difference to make the combination look odd. So gold cotton sweater moved into second place and former favorite orange sweater had to stay home.
Now for the packing: because I had added three more pieces, I couldn’t use my usual paisley tote bag. So I decided to try to use a folding tapestry shopping bag I had purchased second-hand many years ago. After I repaired a damaged wheel, I was pretty sure that it would work out, especially after I sewed on some elastic sleeves to hold the wheels in place when not in use.
I ran through the inventory one more time:
Top1+bottom1+overlayer1+shoes+scarf=casual=
white-tee+teal-cargos+windbreaker+black-flats+blue-scarf
Top2+bottom2+overlayer2+shoes+scarf=dressy=
flower-blouse+prairie-skirt+gold-sweater+sandals+white-pashmina
Top3+bottom3+overlayer3=travel+shoes+scarf=
blue-velvet-top+brown-slacks+brown-blazer+brown-heels+silk-square
SUP=silk-paisley+gold-dress+gold-shoes
I made everything fit in the suitcase, except for the clothes I was going to wear on the plane. But too late I discovered….
There was no room for my Favorite Sweater!
For final confirmation, I checked the weather in California: it was going to be mostly warm. I could not justify packing a bulky sweater I might not wear. Sadly, I left it at home, and departed on our family adventure, wearing my brown travel outfit and new ankle boot heels.
We had a wonderful trip to California: we dined out, we attended lovely Latin-Spanish liturgies, we visited shrines, we explored, we helped set up for parties, danced into the night, cleaned up afterwards, and had relaxed evenings with our hosts and their families. I wore the pieces packed above in numerous combinations. I extended it by occasionally wearing my pajama pieces—a brown t-shirt and beige linen pants. And yes, we went shopping, where I found—of all things—a teal-and-gold-rose-print shift dress, which I also wore.
(Funny thing about the teal blue cargo pants: turns out they were scrubs! No wonder they were so light and durable! But I have decided scrubs are perfect travel pants: crushable, lightweight, easy to clean, and so I wore them anyhow. Besides, they do match everything. Who knows? Maybe it’ll start a new trend.)
For hiking, I was able to borrow sneakers (in teal blue!) from our gracious hosts. And it did rain the second-to-last day we were there. So I wore the windbreaker. And as for the pale-pink-and-white-and-blue combination, I think it actually worked.
It’s one of the reasons I go through the trouble and exercise of creating a travel wardrobe. It really does work. Ultimately, I saved time, effort, and I hope that each outfit for each occasion was a gift to those who saw me.
And now that I’m home in beautiful autumnal Virginia, my Favorite Sweater, I promise I’ll wear you as often as I can. Dear blue maxi sweater. I don’t care what the rest of the world thinks when I wear you.
Some clothes are best for home, after all.
