You’re going away for a weekend trip – just 48 hours of fun, relaxation, and possibly bad decisions. Logically, you should need little more than a toothbrush, some fresh underwear, and a couple of outfits, right? WRONG. Because instead, you’ve packed like you’re fleeing the country under witness protection. Your suitcase is so full it’s teetering on the edge of an international incident, and you’re now jumping on it like a WWE wrestler just to get the damn thing zipped up.
Sound familiar? Welcome to the world of overpacking for a trip – where you think you’re being practical, but in reality, you’re just preparing for scenarios that will never happen. But hey, no judgement – just a little public shaming.
You may not realise it, but your tendency to bring half your wardrobe stems from deep-rooted psychological forces (or just an absolute inability to exercise self-restraint). Here’s why your brain betrays you every time you pack:
What if it rains? What if there’s a freak snowstorm in Ibiza? What if you meet the love of your life and need a ballgown for a last-minute invitation to a gala? (Spoiler: You won’t.) The result? You pack for 17 different possible realities, ensuring you’re ready for everything – except actual reality.
The absolute horror of needing something and not having it outweighs common sense. So you bring everything – including three pairs of shoes you’ll never wear and a full haircare routine for your “holiday curls.”
You’ve planned a weekend trip, but somehow you’re dressing like you’ve got a Vogue cover shoot every afternoon. Because obviously, wearing the same outfit twice in different Instagram posts would be a fate worse than death.
You leave packing to the last minute and start throwing in whatever’s within arm’s reach. Suddenly, you’re looking at your suitcase wondering why you’ve packed five belts and a snorkel for a city break.
You believe your identity is tied to your stuff, so you drag it all with you. Fun fact: No one cares how many outfits you own, and your suitcase is not your emotional support animal.
It’s time for a packing intervention. Follow these steps before your suitcase becomes a rolling nightmare:
Wild idea, right? Look at the forecast and pack accordingly. You don’t need a parka in 30-degree heat. This single action could save you from looking like an idiot lugging winter gear through the tropics.
If you’ve packed enough clothes for a month, you’ve failed. Put everything on the bed, then halve it. If it feels painful, good – you’re learning self-control.
Unless you’re walking a red carpet, no one needs more than two pairs. You’re not a centipede. If your shoes don’t match multiple outfits, they stay home.
Unless you’re starring in a shampoo commercial, your full-size products need to stay where they belong – at home. Use travel-sized versions like a normal person or just steal the hotel freebies like everyone else.
If it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t come. No exceptions. If you need more space, you’re packing too much and need to reevaluate your life choices.
Still convinced you need all 17 outfits? Let’s talk about how overpacking for a trip turns your travel experiences into logistical nightmares:
Airlines love people like you because you basically bankroll their operation with excess baggage charges.
Enjoy repacking your life story in front of a growing queue after a security officer unpacks your entire suitcase full of nonsense.
That moment when you realise your full suitcase is heavier than a baby elephant and you’re stuck hauling it up four flights of stairs. Fun times.
You’ve packed a month's worth of clothes, and yet you’ll still wear the same hoodie and leggings all weekend. Genius.
Packing light isn’t deprivation – it’s freedom. Freedom from too much luggage, freedom from looking like a stressed-out pack mule, and most importantly, freedom from paying your airline’s mortgage via baggage fees.
So next time you’re about to embark on a weekend trip, try this radical concept: Pack like a rational human being. Ask yourself: Do I really need this? (Hint: The answer is no.)
Now go forth, pack light, and experience the unbridled joy of breezing past baggage claim while the other overpacking suckers wait for their 50kg mistake. Your back (and your bank account) will thank you.