Back home, I used to have an embarrasing amount of clothes. I turned a small bedroom into my own walk-in-closet and still managed to have about ten boxes of forgotten clothes in the attic. My women’s logic said that was perfectly normal after years of working in retail. For half a decade, me and my company discount seemed to thrive off compulsive hoarding. But then I cancelled my apartment, sold all my stuff and started traveling… I booked a one-way ticket to a continent filled with sunshine and humidity, not knowing when I’d get back. That meant I wasn’t just saying goodbye to normal luxury items for a mere week or two. That bag would now be my home. What was I to bring? Turns out you can’t fit a walk-in-closet in a 60 liter backpack. I realized that six pairs of high heels really have no business accompanying me to Southeast Asia. Oh crap.

If it’s you’re first time backpacking, I can give you one guarantee on a golden platter: You. Will. Overpack. Women seem to have a special knack for this. Honestly, how can we survive with less than twenty outfits a week? These holiday pics will last a lifetime, so you owe it to your grandchildren to rock every look. And who the hell knows if Third World Country X will have your favorite brand of hair gel, so let’s fit in an extra toiletry pouch just in case. (Spoiler alert: Yes. Third World Country X will actually likely have your favorite brand of hair gel. Maybe you have to search a bit longer, but it’s out there. We like to think anything other than a Western country is a scary place, where people will only have access to rice and a few eggs and everyone still walks around in traditional clothing. Unspoiled from outside influences and still pure to the touch. It’s often not.)
Anyway. Then your trip starts to some distant corner of the earth. And it’s hot as balls in this pretty place you’re at. So the three cardigans you packed, start sinking to the bottom of your backpack. It will take a while to get acclimated to the heat, so the first week you’ll establish a few favorite outfits that make you feel the least sticky. On the second week, you might buy that hideous elephant pants you once despised, but everyone seems to be wearing and they look so damn comfortable. You haven’t figured out if the dodgy laundry shop will shrink all your clothes or not, so let’s feel safe and recycle these outfits on week number 3. Laundry is a chore you’ll do as soon as clean underwear runs out. Aaaaand boom, you’re the poster child for the raggedy-ass backpacker.

Many years ago, mom and I traveled through Canada for a month. I’m from the Netherlands, so you can bet your ass I wouldn’t be meeting many people I know in that part of the world. Still for some reason, little ol’ teenage me decided I needed to start every morning with a half hour ritual of putting on make-up that nobody cared about anyway. My mom still regularly likes to tease me about all the hours I wasted on trying to impress nobody in particular. As you get older, those brainfarts started to deminish, but travel is a big factor in that development too. Plenty corners of the globe are quite comfortable with a lack of make-up. Status isn’t about beauty and beauty isn’t about the length of your eyelashes. Most backpackers will go au natural soon enough. A new tan will make you look healthy without added bronzer, and it’s too sweaty for jewelry anyway. But what the best reason is? Travel makes you happy. Not even Maybelline can beat the glow that’ll put on your face.

These days, I’ve decided that even nail polish remover has no business in my bag. Travel light, I can do it! The problem is, I did see it as a necessity in my existence to have red toenails when wearing flipflops every single day. So my toenails currently consist of a twenty layer pile of paint. Don’t judge me people, it’ll do.
Step by step, what you valued back home can become less important. I’m not even being philosophical here: you just simply can’t fit more than maybe six outfits in your bag. It brutally forces you to ask about every item if it’s a Need or a Want. Now here’s the kicker. Turns out there aren’t many Needs in life. Especially if backpacks are your luggage of choice, it’s fairly motivating to think real hard if you need that dumbell with you to survive your trip abroad. So yes, that means you’ll have the same shirt on in every damn picture on Facebook. My gosh, what will society say. But hey, as long as it’s clean, right?

These ‘minimalistic’ choices go further than just your pretty appearance. Depending on which part of the globe you’re headed off to, it’s likely your days won’t be filled with your normal slice of burger and pizza. Breakfast will not include fresh bread or cocoa puffs. A nice bowl of rice will do just fine at 8AM. Now sure, me and my sense of drama might exaggerate a bit. Plenty of restaurant will indeed cater to the western appetite. They’ll just ask a much heftier price than the noodle shack next door. Still, it’s a fact that your diet abroad will inevitably change, especially for the traveller on a budget. I’ve spend a decent amount of my travel daydreaming about what lasagna used to taste like. It’s ok, nothing you can’t get used to. Take your frustration from yearning Ben & Jerry’s and use it to make food tourism into a challenge. Do what the locals do and have a bowl of shaved ice with jelly, corn and kidney beans. Go try those shady looking chicken feet for a mere dollar. When in Rome.

Now let’s go back to realizing you actually need an astonishing low amount of things in life to function. All other items are either bonus or unnecessary fluff. So stop reading this article, walk up to your attic and throw away every box you haven’t opened in more than a year. Then, donate all the clothes to charity that you haven’t worn in the past six months. (And no, don’t use your newfound empty closet as an excuse to go on a shopping spree next weekend. I see you!) After doing this, tell me if you feel better. And if you feel worse: delete my number.

 

 

Photo credit: Freepik

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