What I Learned Living Out Of A Carry-On Suitcase For 4 Months

For the past four months, I have been living out of a suitcase. No, I have not been traveling cross-country on some sort of epic road trip. Instead, I have been camping out at my parents’ home in Canada. When I left New York in March, I never thought I would find myself still here more than 100 days later. Yet here I am, continuing to recycle the same handful of pieces that I packed in my weekender bag, wondering when the Canada-U.S. border will open up. Getting dressed in the morning has become like a nightmarish version of Groundhog Day. Didn’t I just wear that, I’ll ask myself, getting ready to hop on my morning Zoom meetings dressed in one of the five tops I have at my disposal.

To make matters worse, the few things I did bring with me are hardly everyday staples. Neutrals? Never heard of them. I traveled with what I can only describe as a hot mess of impracticality. Loud, printed camp collar shirts! A very tight pair of jeans! A pair of shorts. (Okay, those are practical). Throw in my dad sneakers and chunky mandals, and we have ourselves one confusing 2020 summer wardrobe. Rewearing these pieces to death—and admittedly not washing them as often as I should—is not what I imagined my hot-boy-summer vibe would be.



For the first few weeks, it wasn’t an issue. I work from home and have the house to myself most days, meaning nobody sees me anyway. Hell, I was actually glad I had packed my most statement-making tops. For one, they helped trick my coworkers into thinking that I was actually dressing up every day. But after week two, it was completely obvious that I was rewearing the same prints again and again—at least to me. Surely my coworkers could tell! Turns out nobody even batted an eyelid. In fact, I learned a lot of other things in the process. (Spoiler alert: It’s not been so bad.) Below, four key takeaways from living out of a suitcase.

1. Yep, I own way too much stuff.

This was very clear to me after week one. I slowly began to realize that I can barely remember what remains in my closet back in New York, even though it’s overflowing with things. Do I miss certain pieces? Of course, particularly all my silky summer shirts. But on the whole, I’ve done pretty well without. It’s made me realize that I shop too much, own too much, and basically always rewear the same things anyway. Now I’m just being forced to do it.

2. Nobody notices your outfit repeats.

One of my biggest worries was that my coworkers would begin noticing how often I was rewearing things. It’s vain, and it’s silly, but working at a fashion magazine, I want to dress up—even if it’s just for a 10-minute Zoom meeting. But even four months in, I still have coworkers complimenting me on my tops (despite having worn them a bajillion times since March). “I hadn’t noticed,” one colleague recently told me. “Is that new?” another asked. Long story short: We are conditioned to think people will judge us for rewearing things, but in fact nobody cares. Live your best recycling life!

3. My mood is greatly dependent on what I wear.

Call me superficial, but what I wear affects my mood significantly. Being limited to a handful of pieces has left me feeling, well, not like myself. I often let the clothes do the talking for me. Now that I’m completely stripped of my fashion armor, I have to work a little harder on projecting my personality. And maybe that’s not a bad thing.

4. How I shop has changed—and will continue to change.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t purchased anything since March. We all have our limits! Desperate for newness, I recently treated myself to a few new things. Ironically, when it came time for me to shop online, I found myself struggling to find pieces that I really wanted. (Maybe my age has something to do with this; I’ve for sure become more pragmatic in my late 20s.) I finally settled on a Levi’s button-down that fulfilled my need for a crisp white summer shirt and a purple Mobilize hoodie, because working inside with air conditioning gets frigid—and why not support an Indigenous-owned brand to keep warm? I bought these pieces because they are entirely different from anything I own. Which is the way one should shop anyway, no? If anything, living out of a carry-on has been a form of retail rehab. And I highly recommend it.