Every January, the internet tells you to declutter. Pull everything out, make three piles, ask yourself if it sparks joy. And every January, I half-comply—feel vaguely virtuous—and shove most of it right back in the drawer.
But here’s what I’ve learned after years of packing and unpacking across time zones: the most honest, most effective closet edit of my life didn’t happen on a resolution-fueled Saturday morning. It happened at the foot of an open suitcase, with a flight to catch.
Packing, it turns out, is the forcing function I never knew I needed.
The Suitcase Doesn’t Lie
When I pack for a trip, I actually try things on. Not a quick glance at the hanger—on my body, in real lighting, with real consideration. And that’s where the truth comes out every single time.
The blouse I’ve been “meaning to wear” for eight months? Pass. The pants I keep thinking I’ll take to the tailor? Still haven’t. The sandals that rubbed last summer, but “maybe this time”? No.
If something doesn’t pass the love-it test in front of the mirror, it gets left behind. And then comes the real question: why is it still in my closet at all?
That moment of clarity—standing there with a half-packed bag and a flight in the morning—is more powerful than any cleaning checklist. Necessity cuts through the noise that sentimentality never could.
The Drawers You Always Forget About
Packing also sends me into drawers I’d honestly rather avoid. The underwear drawer, for instance. Looking for a particular layering piece, I’ll find myself staring at a collection I cycle through maybe 20% of. The rest? Habit. Nostalgia. Low-grade guilt.
I’ve gotten faster at letting go. Anything in great shape that I know I won’t reach for goes to ThredUp—it’s easier to part with something when it’s going somewhere useful. The rest goes straight to Goodwill. Underwear, for obvious reasons, goes directly in the trash.
There’s something quietly satisfying about closing a drawer and knowing everything in it actually belongs there.
The Heel Reckoning
I used to pack heels without a second thought. Of course you pack heels.
But travel has a way of making you honest about your actual life versus your aspirational one. Trip after trip, I’d stand in front of a suitcase staring at a pair of stilettos and ask myself: Will I actually wear these? And more often than not, the answer was no. Not because I don’t love them—but because I love walking and feeling good on day three even more.
Slowly, quietly, my heel collection edited itself down to the ones I’d actually wear. A reasonable height. Something I can navigate cobblestones or a long dinner in without paying for it the next morning.
My Sam Edelman Tobi Lace Up sneakers, on the other hand, never miss a trip. Some things earn their spot every single time.
What’s Left After Packing Is What Actually Belongs
After every trip I pack for—real or imaginary—I come back to a closet that’s a little lighter and a lot more honest. What’s left are the pieces that actually work: they fit well, they go with other things, and reaching for them feels effortless.
Those are also, not coincidentally, the things I wear most at home. If something made it into the suitcase, it’s a real wardrobe essential—not just filler I’ve been too busy to deal with.
Try It Before Your Next Trip (Or Make One Up)
You don’t need a flight booked to do this. Pick a destination—real or invented—jot down what you’d pack, and actually try the outfits on. See what feels right, what you’d never actually bring, and what you’ve been holding onto out of habit rather than love.
As you go, start a pile for consignment or donation. Be a little ruthless. The pieces you love deserve to live in a closet where they’re actually seen.
More travel content is coming in June—I’ll share where I’m headed and exactly what made it into my bag. In the meantime, I’ve linked my current dependable favorites on ShopMy if you want to see what’s actually earning a permanent place in my closet.