There are a variety of approaches to packing. Personally, I take the highly academic approach. Well, in theory, I take the highly academic approach.

You can save this article by registering for free here. Or sign-in if you have an account.

There are a variety of approaches to packing.

Personally, I take the highly academic approach. Well, in theory, I take the highly academic approach.

As one would, I begin with a thoroughly itemized itinerary. I then consult the regional weather forecast. Sensible enough, right? Terrain must also be considered. After all, stilettos may not be advisable at the Alhambra. And what about bugs? Hello, Winnipeg. Sun exposure? Cultural observances? Heat domes? So much to consider.

Subscribe now to read the latest news in your city and across Canada.

Subscribe now to read the latest news in your city and across Canada.

Create an account or sign in to continue with your reading experience.

Having identified each event and cross-referenced it with the predicted weather, possible threats and regional sensitivities, I then list each component of the carefully curated ensembles that will be my apparel for said events. All of these deliberations get entered, component by component, on a spreadsheet. Each pair of shoes is assigned a specific colour entry so that I can easily identify what shoes go with what outfit. The trick is to take the fewest number of shoes possible. Ditto for accessories. If something can be deployed and redeployed in multiples of ensembles, well, that’s packing genius on display. I always pack a thermal layer, even when traveling to the Mediterranean. Crazy? you scoff. Well, I’ve encountered snow in May in Spain, so who’s crazy now? And you never know when the proverbial Little Black Dress will come in handy, so tuck in one of those, too.

Mine is a highly researched approach that ought to make me an asset to any head of state or captain of industry.

Yes, this is my approach.

In theory.

Here’s what usually happens.

It starts with what I call a flooredrobe. It’s basically your wardrobe spread out on the floor a week in advance. Much of this will still be on the floor upon your return. Don’t think of this as a mess but as a clever ruse — if your home is broken into during your absence, the crooks will think someone got there ahead of them and burgle your neighbours instead.

Spend the week eyeing these clothes suspiciously. Is it possible that any of these clothes have “shrunk” since the last expedition? Of course, I could try them on … but that could prove dispiriting. I then start a pyramid of toiletries and wonder if I should decant each one into those tiny travel-sized containers. This is a job that no one wants — squeezing stuff into little bottles is like having the ketchup bottle battle a dozen times in a row. Next, I start a pyramid of shoes and wonder if any of them are “universal” enough to qualify for inclusion. This is my own heart-breaking version of Sophie’s Choice.

This array will remain in place up until 24 hours to departure. Its very presence will prompt Mercury to go into retrograde.

Here’s my most recent “failure to launch” experience: In the hours leading up to departure, I noticed that the milk in the fridge had gone off. Yes, the fridge had chosen this moment to quit. A major campaign of emptying the fridge is launched. Rather than chuck a bunch of kiwis that won’t last until my return, I, of course, elect to make jam. Of course! I then........

© Vancouver Sun