Would I Travel This Way Again?
The Math, The Miles, The Memories

We’re at the end of the road now with this final installment of my three-part series about packing math, so it feels fitting to first circle back to where it started.

In Can Math Solve The Packing Problem?, I shared the 4x4x4(ish) capsule wardrobe I’d put together for a recent 15-day road trip. Then, in Did I Pack Too Much?, I reflected on how well that plan actually held up once I was back home again. I ended that post with this:

“Of course, whether I packed too many clothes is not quite the same question as whether we brought too much stuff. But that’s a story for another blog post. Stay tuned.”

Well, here we are. After fifteen days on the road, a 4x4x4(ish) capsule wardrobe, no outfit repeats, very little that never got worn, and one pair of shoes that probably should have stayed home, I have a pretty good idea of what worked and what didn’t.

But there are a few other things the math hadn’t really accounted for. Because clothes were only part of what came along for the ride.

The Accessories I Forgot to Mention

Somehow, in the previous discussions about tops, bottoms, layers, shoes, outfit combinations, and packing math, I never said much about accessories. As shown in the photos (both here and in the previous posts), I brought two purses and two scarves. All turned out to be good options to have on hand.

None took up much room, and all four gave me easy ways to change an outfit’s look without adding another top, another layer, or another pair of pants to what I’d already decided to pack. The scarves were especially useful. Besides adding pops of color and pattern, they were very handy as hair protection on the days when there were a few sprinkles of rain.

The purses also offered options for variety without feeling excessive. Jewelry, however, was another story.

While I didn’t exactly lose valuable suitcase real estate to it, I brought far more choices than I needed. Apparently I thought fifteen days on the road required access to a small traveling jewelry counter. It did not.

Looking back, one silver-tone set and one gold-tone set would have been plenty. Combining pieces from those sets for mixed-metals looks would have given me even more options.

This may be one of the more useful things I learned from the experiment. Overpacking isn’t always about space. Sometimes it’s simply about bringing more choices than you actually want or need.

What About My Husband?

So far, all this packing talk has been about me. But I wasn’t traveling alone, was I? No, I was with my ride-or-die guy of more than 30 years. So how did his clothes fit into all this packing math?

Simple, they didn’t. He packs for himself. Completely. And by his own choice.

My husband has always packed his own suitcase, which means my elaborate clothing calculations, outfit combinations, weather considerations, and post-trip wardrobe analysis were entirely my own operation.

His packing system is his business. Mine apparently requires spreadsheets. These days, he’s much more of a minimalist.

This arrangement works quite well for us. We each know what we want to wear, what we’re comfortable bringing, and what we’re willing to haul around for two weeks.

And maybe that’s part of traveling well together too. Of course, his minimalist approach isn’t the only one that looks very different from mine.

Another Perspective on Packing

While I was in the midst of my mathing for this trip, I happened to read a newsletter from style blogger Jo-Lynne Shane about what she’d packed for a week at the Jersey Shore.

Our approaches could hardly have been more different. Jo-Lynne shared that although she’d been keeping a running list on her phone, she didn’t actually open her suitcase until about an hour before leaving. Her packing was admittedly a bit haphazard, and she even forgot her workout clothes.

Still, it appears that she managed to pack a pretty broad assortment: 16 pieces of clothing, including shorts and pants, casual tops and tanks, dresses, and layers, along with three pairs of sandals, four totes or handbags, and two sets of pajamas. She also brought three bathing suits, two workout outfits with sneakers, plus a large assortment of jewelry. By item count, jewelry made up roughly half of the items she listed on her ShopMy page.

Meanwhile, I was over here doing packing math.

And maybe that’s another thing this experiment helped me figure out. There isn’t necessarily one right way to pack for a trip. Some people are comfortable gathering a wide assortment of things they think they’ll want and making their choices once they get there. It was interesting to read Jo-Lynne’s acknowledgement in a later outfit recap that she didn’t wear everything she’d brought, though she was glad she’d had the options.

That’s where our packing styles seem to part ways. I’m more comfortable deciding some of those choices ahead of time.

For me, having a plan took some of the guesswork (and decision anxiety) out of getting dressed once we were on the road. I didn’t need every combination I’d calculated, but knowing that the pieces worked together gave me plenty of variety without bringing significantly more clothes.

And there is one particularly funny difference between our experiences: she forgot her workout clothes and later had them brought to her. I remembered mine and never wore them.

So while I don’t think every future trip needs quite this much mathematical analysis, I’m probably not becoming an hour-before-departure packer anytime soon.

So, Did We Bring Too Much Stuff?

Probably. But not necessarily in the categories you might expect.

The clothes themselves worked better than I thought they might. There were things I could have left behind, particularly the workout clothes I never used and perhaps one of the layers that was worn mostly for style, not warmth.

But the basic wardrobe formula gave me plenty of variety. The two purses worked. The scarves worked. The extra jewelry was unnecessary.

And there were probably a few other things in the car that seemed absolutely essential before we left and considerably less essential once we got home, like my laptop. I brought it along more to ensure its safety and to have on hand “just in case,” even though I also had my tablet and my phone.

We were traveling in a mid-size SUV, so we had a decent amount of room to work with. But that space also accommodated two full sets of golf clubs for the entire trip, which meant there was a lot to maneuver around whenever something needed to be shifted, squeezed in, or dug out from underneath everything. And when I say we, I mostly mean my husband, who was a very good sport about that part.

Where Did All This Packing Take Us?

This was, after all, a road trip, and the clothes, scarves, golf clubs, laptop, and everything else were there to support the actual reason for going: the places we wanted to see along the way.

Over fifteen days, we made our way through California, Oregon, Washington, and then back through Oregon and California, with stops that ranged from mountain scenery and small towns to coastal views, golf, and a few places that had been on our list for a while.

There were long driving days, shorter sightseeing days, a train ride, gluten-free food finds, and plenty of opportunities to figure out whether the clothes I’d packed really could handle the variety I had planned for.

Rather than retrace the whole route here, I’ll let a few of the trip highlights tell that part of the story.

Life-size puppet show in Olympia, Washington

Exploring along the Columbia River Gorge

Crater Lake National Park

The Redwoods in Jedediah Smith State Park

A walk through Founders Grove, Avenue of the Giants

Sights in Mendocino

17 Mile Drive, Pebble Beach

And now back to the question that started all of this: Can math solve the packing problem?

The Short Answer: Yes

At least for me, some version of this packing method worked well enough that I’d absolutely use it again. Not because the math produced some magically perfect equation for solving the packing riddle, but because it made me think differently about what I was bringing.

Instead of packing individual outfits, I packed pieces that could work together. Instead of trying to anticipate every possible situation, I had enough options to adjust as we went. And instead of coming home feeling as though half what I packed had never had a reason to leave the house, most of what I brought actually got worn.

Next time, I’d make a few edits. Fewer pieces in the “just in case” category. Less jewelry. No workout clothes unless I genuinely expect to work out.

The scarves can come. So can the second purse. And I’d still leave room for something that breaks the rules.

Because even after all this math, I’m not interested in packing a suitcase that feels like homework.

Would I Travel This Way Again?

There’s another reason that question feels especially appropriate today. This post is publishing on our 35th wedding anniversary.

Thirty-five years ago, we started a much longer journey together.

Since then, there have been plenty of suitcases, road trips, plane trips, hotel rooms, wrong turns, good meals, bad weather, beautiful views, ordinary days, and a whole lot of life in between.

We don’t pack the same way. We don’t always want to stop at the same places. And I’m fairly certain only one of us would ever consider calculating the possible number of outfits in a travel wardrobe.

Still, after thirty-five years, we seem to have figured out how to keep moving in the same general direction.

So would I want to travel this way again? With a slightly lighter jewelry case, absolutely.

And with the same traveling companion? That answer is even easier: it’s a resounding I DO!

Stay well and let’s keep in touch! Subscribe, follow, friend, pin … all options are available. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

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Photo credits: MMPerez and myself

Note: This is an unsponsored post; however, some or all of the links to clothing items are associated with an affiliate program, where I earn a small commission for each click at no additional cost to you.