How the mighty have fallen. Today I butchered a packing task that I should have been able to do in my sleep, so I’m here to confess to it. Let me set the stage: I had merrily skated through the first eleven cities of my book tour, carry-on bag beside me, proud and even a tiny bit smug about my packing skillset. Then I came home for one day. It happened to be my birthday, and I was so tired that I politely declined my husband’s entreaties to go out for a nice dinner, preferring to order in a pizza (it was heaven to get in my pjs and eat pizza straight out of the delivery box; highly recommend for all birthday dinners).
The next day, we left for Oaxaca, Mexico, for a four-day birthday trip. I threw a few things in my suitcase without much thought, figuring I’d buy something there if I needed. It was colder and more casual than I expected, but I was fine (and Oaxaca is more than fine; another recommendation for your future birthday plans).
When we got home I had about thirty hours in Los Angeles, which included a book party. For me, I mean. I usually percolate for days choosing a party dress, but I had begun shedding brain cells due to fatigue, and knew I couldn’t spend too much time debating. I wore one of my two never-fail party dresses, this one a Vivienne Tam number that I bought thirty years ago. I’m proud of that, by the way: How often do you acquire something that you still like three decades later? Or even fits you three decades later?
Anyway, the party was a blast. But it dawned on me that about eleven hours after the party ended, I would be boarding a plane for a two-city leg of my tour, namely, Seattle and Portland. At this point in my travels, I had the nerve to believe I could pack for a two-city stint while sound asleep; after all, I’d packed for eleven cities without breaking a sweat! Ah, you would think so. Inexplicably, my military-like discipline (Carry-On Only Or Die!) and animal focus deserted me. I dithered. I packed my usual book event outfit (a black Issey Miyake top; a Comme des Garçons skirt acquired two decades ago that is so awesome that former President George Bush once wrote me a fan letter complimenting it; black Tibi boots).
Then I had second thoughts. I never have second thoughts about this outfit; it is canonical in the Orlean fashion ecosystem. But I started thinking that Portland and Seattle are so casual, so rainy, and so grungy. Would I look too dressed up? I don’t believe in playing to the audience; I think you should let the audience play to you. But in my sleep-deprived, packing-frenzied state, I lost nerve. I threw in a sweater and black pants. Ok, two pairs of black pants, because I couldn’t decide between my High Sport pants and a pair of very cool Melitta Baumeister wide-leg pants with little belts around the bottom (yes, they sound weird but they’re great).
Then I added a black skirt, because maybe I’d wear a sweater and black skirt and that would be a little more see-you-at-the-protest than my usual book event outfit. Or maybe it wouldn’t be. I added a different sweater—okay, two more sweaters, because I couldn’t settle on one. This cutie is made by Tao/Comme des Garcons and I love it, but what if there are dog haters in the audience? Need another option.
My suitcase was beginning to bulge like a pregnant hamster. What was happening to me? I was dissatisfied with everything I’d packed and yet I’d packed most of my wardrobe. I was a lost soul.
Sitting on my suitcase, I pressed down on the bulge and forced the zipper around. Then I realized I hadn’t packed underwear, a tee-shirt to sleep in, or socks. I had lost my mind. Was God punishing me for bragging publicly about my packing prowess? I unzipped and shoved in the missing items. My airport driver texted that he was ready and waiting. I wanted to start all over but it was now perilously late. I still hadn’t figured out outerwear. It would be raining and cold in Seattle; slightly less rainy and cold in Portland. Do I take a warm coat or a raincoat? Do I prefer to be shot or stabbed? What a choice! I’ll take both. And an umbrella. And…
At least I did fit it all in the carry-on, so I didn’t spoil my unblemished record of lightweight travel. But I have zero idea of what’s actually in my suitcase and whether I even brought a cohesive, functional outfit. I have a stop at home before I make another multi-city sweep, so I hope between now and then I can knock some sense back into my head. Or else.
SHOW NOTES
—I blew through A GUARDIAN AND A THIEF by Megha Majumdar and loved it. She’s the real deal. I also loved her first book, A BURNING. I’m about to go to a party to which she is also invited and I am going to corner her and rave to her about the book.
—As previously noted, I am now listening to the audiobook of LONESOME DOVE. The narrator is the actor Will Patton, and it’s so good. I know the story gets really sad, so I’m bracing myself, but I’m loving it. I am reminded of when I watched the miniseries in 1989 and I cried so hard that I thought I’d drown myself.
—I’m still too scared to order anything from overseas websites or Canadian megabrand conglomerate SSENSE. Tariffs, baby. If you’ve ordered anything, I’d love to hear what your experience was. SSENSE is now claiming you won’t pay the tariffs on receipt of your package, but I think that just means they will calculate it and charge you upfront. In other words, you’re going to pay it one way or the other.
Peace out! XSusan
