I woke up like this and traveled like this.
I talk a lot about my Mother in my blog and I’m about to do it again. She is the voice inside my head (and always will be). I have learned so much from her, and have also decided when to break a few of the “life lessons” she has so lovingly passed on to me. This post is about one of them.
From a very early age, my mother taught me to dress with sophistication and elegance. I was wearing matching suits in Kindergarten. I fought with her constantly in elementary school because the other kids were wearing jeans to school and I was wearing skirts, tights, and patent leather shoes. I wanted to wear hot pink spandex pants and a pink Dinosaur sweatshirt with my name spelled out in pastel puffy paint. (And I told my *first* lie to wear that very outfit to school one day). “The way you dress says a lot about you. Dress the way that you want to feel.” After awhile, it became a little ingrained in me and almost felt normal. I remember getting up early on exam days in high school to paint my nails and curl my hair. I wanted to ace that test, so I better look as confident as I felt. I channeled that confidence and walked into school ready to take on the world, just as other kids were rolling out of bed and coming to school in their pajamas.
Similarly, she taught me that you should “dress up” to travel. If you needed help, would someone be more likely to assist a well-dressed person or a bum in sweatpants? She has a point.
Today, as I spend eight hours on two back-to-back flights to LA, I am breaking that rule. I chose to be comfortable. I chose to wear layers to keep me warm and keep me cool. I chose to wear my comfiest sweatpants that I lounge around in on Sunday afternoons and occasionally wear to bed. I chose to wear sneakers (hot pink) that allow me to run across the airport to the gate furthest away from where I arrived. Sometimes, rules are worth breaking. And speaking from recent experience, totally worth it.
Yours truly (the comfy, cozy jetsetter),
