This Summer, as I began to backpack my way through several countries, I was set. My backpacking backpack had just the right amount of clothes in it to compile many outfits and always be comfortable. I had two pairs of shoes that would work perfectly in any scenario. I had a very large bag of ethically made, organic toiletries and makeup. I had multiple types of bras and bandeaus. A pink travel towel. I had spandex and assorted hair ties. I had one of the best backpacking backpacks I could buy. I had all of the chargers for all the devices packed very neatly. I had jewelry and perfume. And, of course, a raincoat. And my backpack was still small enough that no one would judge me as a new-bee backpacker, they may even think I was a pro. And the way I was set, I kind of felt like one. Only one small problem, I'm not a pro. Which is why I got my backpack stollen.
Riding on a subway from the airport to Barcelona I glanced out the window, completely excited. I was almost four weeks into my trip and I was just beginning my less structured part of my travels, entering into Spain. My bag was thrown over my head in a compartment and I thought I was ready to take on the world. I had no idea where I was supposed to get off. The guy next to me saw that I was lost, whether he took advantage of this or felt sorry for me, I will never know, but he yelled "this is your stop!" and I quickly jumped off just in time, only to realize my bag didn't come with me. I turned to see the train zipping away. I ran to the security guard and explained my situation. He brought me to an information desk and another man then called the next station. They looked for the bag but, alas, it was already gone.
Luckily, I had a small drawstring with my passport, my money, my camera, my phone, and my laptop. But everything else was gone, including the chargers for all the devices. So basically, I had money and a passport. I went to the drugstore and bought regular, boring shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste, a toothbrush and a phone charger. I went to a store I hate that makes cheap, fast-fashion clothes and bought underwear and a bathing suit and two dresses and a sweater and leggings because I was too poor to go to the type of stores I try to shop at. The only other items I had were the ones I was wearing, black athletic leggings, a black t-shirt, black Birkenstocks, a sports bra and no, I wasn't even wearing underwear. Everything I owned fit in my drawstring but I would eventually buy a ten-dollar beach bag that zipped. I would go back to the same store and break down buying a minimal amount of awful-quality make-up and nail polish-I wanted at least a few things to pamper myself with!
Over the next four weeks I added to that list. In Porto, Portugal I would purchase 2 more dresses and a pair of three-dollar shoes to wear out (that would be destroyed) from the store I despise. I also broke down and bought two bralettes there after I noticed the old men staring at me making me realize my dress was maybe a little too see-through. In Lisbon, Portugal I would buy a button-up, a t-shirt, and a dress at a flea market, and also take a sweater that was left in the girls bathroom in a night club. Further down the road, in Granada, Spain, my friend gave me a T-shirt to sleep in (thanks Steve!). A week and a half later I'd be in Cadiz, Spain where, after four weeks of traveling with only those few items that fit in a small bag, my friend from home met up with me for a week and brought me about seven more items from home. When she gave them to me they smelled like incense, I cried.
As funny, and as terrible, as all of this sounds, I managed to have a great time and, more importantly, from all of this, I learned a very valuable lesson. I have too much crap.
I got back home and had no room but an overwhelming amount of stuff with barely anything that I actually cared about. I was coming from having barely nothing to enough clothes to not do laundry for a solid three months. I looked at all of the items and hated them. It's not that I loved the items that I had with me on my trip, most of them by that point I actually hated too because I wore them at least three times a week, it was that I had gotten so used to being able to pack up all of the items I needed into one tiny bag so that this wardrobe now felt like it was weighing me down. So much so, that for the first week I was home, I barely even looked at it.
Before I left for my trip, I remembered a friend telling me about how she was capsuling her wardrobe. Capsuling was taking around forty or so pieces and using only those for three months not including office clothes or work-out clothes. As simple as this may sound, try counting how many pieces you have in your closet, I guarantee for most people it is way more than forty. So, when I finally dared to address my wardrobe I knew that beginning to capsule it was the best option.
I'm currently still in the process of getting rid of items and I already have a bin full that is completely over-flowing. Every time I put something in the bin it feels like a little bit of weight is lifted off my shoulders. When I put an outfit on in the morning I am so much more aware of the quality of it and how it fits me, and if I don't love how it fits me or looks, it goes in the bin. I am quickly realizing quality over quantity wins every time. Plus, I plan on living all over the world and one of the few things that worried me about that was the amount of stuff that I have, but if I begin to focus on quality instead of quantity I won't have to be worried about that anymore. And although I have always tried to buy things that were ethically made or recycled, they're expensive and since I was still in the quantity over quality mindset, I was often buying the cheapest ones I could find or whatever struck my eye at the thrift store instead of planning out what I actually needed. And, on top of that, half my the clothes in my closet were trendy pieces from high school that I don't even like anymore but was just keeping to keep. I'm moving further and further away from this and just craving some nice-quality, staple pieces that will fit well and last a long time rather than just buying more and more cheap crap that I can throw away with little guilt, adding to the consumerist culture that were living in.
One other thing that I learned, and I think is important to note, is that losing my bag didn't just teach me about having less but it also helped me make some realizations about my closet. Through losing my bag, I learned that the things that I missed the most were my nice toiletries that make me feel naturally beautiful. It made me realize, that although I couldn't care less about having more shoes, I really wanted a new pair that wasn't going to just fall apart. It wasn't the dresses in my bag that I hated, it was the fact that every time I looked at the tags it made me think of the sweatshops in India. I've always disagreed with the fast-fashion industry but I also secretly envied people who would constantly be filling their closets with the newest, hippest, trendiest pieces. But after this experience, I don't envy them anymore, it's not just that I disagree with the fast-fashion industries methods, I hate it. I hate the fact that they fill our minds with advertisements telling us we will never be quite in style enough and that it doesn't matter that the clothing falls apart because they've driven prices down so low that we can just buy more. I hate that they fill their shops with so many pretty pictures and patterns that we forget, either accidentally or maybe even purposefully, that those pieces were stitched together by workers in poor working conditions or the fact that prices may be low but that doesn't mean that us throwing away our clothes doesn't really matter, because it actually does matter to the environment.
Misplacing my bag wasn't exactly part of my plan but it definitely was part of a greater plan making myself a simpler, more consumer-conscious person. I now see that materials are only that and nothing more and so it is better to spend extra money on ethical and sustainable quality items rather than just buying whatever I desire. And maybe, this is something that everyone could learn to practice a little more. I hope that my story of losing my bag is enough for you and it doesn't take you going through a similar experience. Oh, and that's another thing I learned, remember to make sure your backpack is actually on your back before you walk away.
If you want to learn more about the topic of fast-fashion and ethically-made clothing there is a great documentary about it on Netflix called "The True Cost." There are also many shopping guides on the internet but the two that I use the most are here and here. If neither of those work for you just search "ethically made ..." on Google and your bound to find plenty of sources. Lastly, if you're looking to find out more about capsuling, click here.
