Comment se garder vêtu et sur la route
Now you may read the title of this jarringly informative piece of journalism and think; “Get off it mate, I’ve been dressing myself for years.” But as anybody who has been on the road for an extended period of time will tell you, draping yourself in some dapper glad rags whilst living out of your suitcase day-to-day quickly becomes something of an uphill battle. I pass on these tidbits of info in the hope, neigh, the knowledge, that ye stingy Stokies will avoid the mistakes that I’ve made before.
Don’t pack your best clothes, pack your newest.
I can’t stress this enough. Upon getting out of NZ, I was advised it was best to pack light. So I packed light and added two. This’ll leave you with a few pairs of pants and a t-shirt for every day when on the road. What I’d failed to address was the condition of said clothing. A month later and you’ll end up with two pairs of pants almost intact, wearable so long as you’re in the company of people comfortable glimpsing a speck of scrotum now and then. The other pair’ll be sat at the bottom of your bag with a rip the size of a small tennis racket.
But what about that old t-shirt you op-shopped in ’09 before Macklemore ruined thrift store’s for everyone? It was falling apart then and the only use you’re getting out of it now is to patch up aforementioned crotch-holes. I don’t care if it’s knock-off Nike your Nan bought you for Christmas, if it’s new, pack it, pronto.
Pack Light, Yeah Right
Many an experienced road traveller will tell you that, when it comes to packing, it’s human nature to over-pack; take only what you need. Well, not I. I say fuck that. Especially when it comes to socks.
Bouncing around hostel to hostel, campsite to caravan, as the time spent away from home becomes longer and longer, your collection of socks gets smaller and smaller. How can it be that socks constantly go missing? Even when you think you know the journey that the sock has been on from wash to wash. You’ve only stayed one night at a hostel. You’re wearing the same pair of socks both days. You don’t take any other socks out of your pack. And yet, they continue to disappear. I’m genuinely really surprised that nobody has ever authorised a worldwide enquiry as to what the hell happens to all the missing socks. So pack every damn foot-snuggler you own.
The Eternal Colour Conundrum
Dependent on where your wanderings take you around the globe, there are a number of things to take into account when wondering what to wear. Dark colours are good, they say; if you frequently chug beer bongs or have trouble getting your fork from plate to mouth, then dark colours are perfect for hiding any nasty stains. True, you might have to spend a tad less cashola on washing powder, but if you’re headed anywhere with a bit more sunshine, it’s basically a death sentence. I don’t care if it makes you look slimming and mysterious, you will bake faster than a packet of Betty Crocker cake mix. Sure, the sweat stains won’t be as prominent to the eye, but nobody’s going to want to come within a mile of your pungent pong. The only solution I can think of so far is to wear light colours, and avoid eating, whilst only drinking beer through a straw. You save money and won’t need to worry about looking slimming as you’ll probably be a bit frail and feeble as it is.
On another note, avoid Orange. Orange is a stupid fucking colour.