Travelling light – it’s just not my style. Although I’ve mastered the art of a 20kg flight allowance, it just feels wrong; especially when packing for London Fashion Week. My wardrobe is by nature excessive and I refuse to be cordoned in by such limitations. I’ve even gone as far as to purchase one of those 17-pocket jacket inventions to help overcome these wanton weight restrictions. Handy little contraption – pity it doesn’t come in snakeskin or brocade.
That being said, I’ve decided this season to at least try the whole ‘capsule wardrobe’ shtick and see how far it gets me. Not far it would appear. My suitcase lays splayed on the bedroom floor, zipped jaws akimbo, ready to swallow enough outfits to rival Mariah Carey and Cher on a Vegas hen night. And still, the capsule remains empty.
It would appear I’ve been beset by option paralysis, incapable of those executive decisions demanded of a stylist. In my career defence, these are my babies. From the vintage gems I’ve nurtured and cherished, to those well-fought eBay finds and a shoe collection as ample as it is random; I can’t bear to leave anything behind. Let’s face it; you never know when a marabou shrug or feather-trimmed trousers will come in handy. But I digress.
It’s times like these I wish I had an assistant to do the fashion math and make those cutbacks. As a mommy, I’m too close to my kids. I can’t hear that my coveted rust Carvela platforms don’t go with the colour palette or that there isn’t enough room in the case for another Joanne Hynes leather jacket. Those are words too cruel. Even the click of the luggage lock sounds like a death knell sealing my fate. Drama as you can see I do well; austerity not so much.
Another option is to simply rent a clapped out VW Winnebago and drive to London. It would be like a Partridge Family road trip complete with platforms and tassels (hey the ‘70s are so now). The kids will have plenty of room in the back which can also double as a walk-in wardrobe. Separation anxiety be damned! Ah, sometimes inspiration hits you at life’s most critical intersections. Now, if only I had a driver’s licence…
