What Living Out of a Suitcase for Nine Months Taught Me About Getting Dressed

2016 did not turn out the way I had expected.

Two weeks after leaving my job as the editor of a fashion news site, the boyfriend I’d been living with for two years decided to call it quits on our relationship. Faced with an uncertain income and the prospect of finding a new—and, by necessity, more economical—living situation via Craigslist, I decided instead to leave New York.

And why not? Never before had I been so free from professional and personal commitments, and the opportunity might not come around again. So I sold most of the furniture to my (still friendly) ex, consigned and donated about 70 percent of my clothes, and bought a one-way ticket to Paris. I’ve been living out of a suitcase (and one very handsome-looking carry-on bag) ever since.

This year has taught me a great deal: to live with almost constant uncertainty, to be smarter about money, to be more proactive about seeking new experiences, and how to avoid penalty fares for missed flights (be polite, and cry). It’s also changed my relationship to clothes.

Call me superficial, but the idea of packing nine months’ worth of clothes, toiletries, and electronics into a suitcase and a weekender bag— nine months that would take me through multiple seasons and climates; fashion weeks in New York, London, and Paris; beach holidays in Ibiza and Sicily; a half-marathon in Vancouver and muddy hikes in southwest England—was a little daunting to someone who spends as much time thinking about clothes as I do. I didn’t want to drag around a lot of stuff, but I did want to feel equipped for any situation I might encounter.

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More shopping advices:

1. The Case for Splurging on Luxury Basic Clothing
2. How It Feels to Wear Seven Pieces of Clothing for a Week
3. A Case for Changing Up Your Style This Fall

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What I discovered is that you really can pack just about everything you need in a suitcase, if you’re smart about it. And while I did enjoy having lots of styling tools at my disposal in New York—I can’t resist a sleeveless coat, however dubiously practical—having a streamlined wardrobe of basics made getting dressed easy in a way that I’d long craved. And I generally felt more confident in what I was wearing, too, because I was rarely trying to pull off something new.

Here’s what else I learned about dressing with a limited wardrobe—principles I’ll use not just on future trips, but when I finally settle down and have a closet at my disposal again.

RELATED: The Fashion Staples You need to Survive Living Out of a Suitcase

1. Everything you own should go together. This seems obvious, but when packing for a trip, it can be really tempting to pack a series of outfits: blouses, skirts, and shoes that work perfectly together, and maybe with one or two other things. Don’t. Every piece of clothing should be an interchangeable unit that can be worn with everything else.

2. Pick a simple silhouette, and stick to it. In my early and mid-twenties, I was fanatical about experimenting with new cuts and proportions. (If a J.Crew model could look that fantastic in cropped brocade pants, I ought to be able to give it a pass! Sadly, not so.) The only thing I’ve ever looked consistently good in are A-line skirts and dresses. Sure, that can be a little bit boring at times, but when you stick to the same shapes—for me, that’s midi skirts that sit an inch or two below my natural waist, crew-neck sweaters and blouses cropped at the hip, and single-breasted coats that end at the knee—it means you’ll never have to fuss in front of the mirror.

Having a streamlined wardrobe of basics made getting dressed easy in a way that I’d long craved.

3. Develop color discipline. Ensuring that all of your clothes go together isn’t just a matter of proportion—color is critical, too. Study your wardrobe and see what colors are already working together. If you tend to favor graphic brights like red and yellow, but find that your brown cords never seem to go with anything, toss ‘em—and avoid brown in the future. Limiting yourself mostly to neutrals makes it easy.

4. Don’t be afraid to wear the same things again and again. It’s easier, and makes your “look” more identifiable.

5. Learn to layer. In the past, I wore T-shirts only in the summer, trading them out for light and medium-weight sweaters in the fall and heavy knits in the winter. Since I no longer have room for several sweater weights, I’ve embraced layering: a white tee makes for a great base under a lightweight bomber, sleeveless puffer vest, and trench on crisp fall days.

6. Buy multiples of key pieces. This rule may seem counterintuitive when you’re tight on space. But when you’re doing laundry on a 90-degree day, you’ll be really happy you packed more than one tee.

7. Opt for season-neutral fabrics whenever possible. You might love a double-faced wool dress, but you’ll get a lot more use out of one in a technical fabric that’s light enough for summer and can be easily layered over tights and long underwear in the winter. I like viscose and neoprene.

8. Keep dry clean-only to a minimum. It’s a hassle, and it’s expensive. Enough said.

9. You only need four pairs of shoes. Shoes can easily monopolize a suitcase, and I regret how many I packed. In the end, all I needed was a single pair of white sneakers, loafers, black kitten heels, and running shoes. (Sandals would have been nice for the beach holidays, too, but I could make do in sneakers.)

10. Leave room for new purchases. While I tried to pack for everything I could think of, there were certainly things I forgot, or thought I could do without. Plus, you’ll never know what you’ll discover—I was very happy I’d left some room in my carry-on for a pristine vintage Pierre Cardin trench I found at a secondhand shop in Paris.

Now learn how to pack like a supermodel: