Although I have traveled abroad many times to several different destinations, I found myself at a loss for how to prepare my belongings in preparation for 5 months of living in Paris. Before wasting any more time in frowning at my 28-inch expandable suitcase that suddenly seemed so inadequately small for this next adventure, I decided to ask a couple of acquaintances who have lived abroad in France for some much-needed advice. Their similar responses of counseling me to bring no more than one suitcase came as a shock to me. “It’s Paris,” they said as if it were the most obvious piece of logic in the world, “The fashion advertisements alone will make you wonder why you brought your own clothes in the first place,” they finished in the tone of a travel featurette in a glossy fashion magazine. At their flippant responses, I knew that I had come to the wrong people to ask for advice. Not that the advice itself was false…it just happened to be incompatible with someone determined to travel on a reasonable budget.
Knowing that the limits that I had set for myself during a spell of self-discipline will not accommodate for a new Parisian wardrobe plus a new set of toiletries courtesy of France’s seemingly-invincible cosmetics industry, I fell back to the drawing board to produce a Plan B that could pack my entire life in one suitcase…and also in one carry-on. One by one, my favorite pieces from my closet filled my suitcase until I began to dubiously eye the remaining sliver of empty space to gauge if it would fit the two remaining articles of clothing that I intended to bring. One was a soft, gray, oversized worn-in hooded sweatshirt, which I had worn since 6th grade, and eventually followed me to university to provide some warmth and comfort as I trudged through finals in our campus’s frostiest classrooms. The other item was a sophisticated gold tunic that accompanied me on my first date and to other social settings around the world. Without deep consideration, I reached for the latter piece, as I recalled learning in a pre-departure orientation session that Parisians prefer to dress in more polished outfits in public. Yet, I hesitated, grimacing at the thought of studying and lounging in dressy tops, and also at the fact that I almost gave up my Comfort-First fashion rule to satisfy the model of what I should look like while living abroad.
My nearly-packed luggage reflects the person that I am before leaving on this trip: The absence of a make-up bag and its contents reveals a distinct distaste for the trouble and bother of cosmetics. Packages of dried ingredients used in traditional Chinese dishes, intended to be gifts for distant relatives living in Paris, serves as a reminder of the importance that I place on family. A singing/meow-ing Hello Kitty travel alarm clock reflects a slightly childish and droll side. As I looked down at that remaining space in my suitcase, I wondered which of these parts of my identity would change in the course of this trip. The possibility of changes brought both fear and curiosity of the person who would be coming home to my loved ones at the end of May. As I sat on my suitcase to zip it closed, I knew I made the right decision to bring both the sweatshirt and the tunic as reminders of the balance and maturity needed to adapt to my new surroundings.
