Last week, Suitable asked for your secrets to looking your best when you travel for business. If the feedback received is any indication, Suitable readers are seasoned packers.
In fact, if I were able to pull some strings, everyone who sent in a comment would receive an upgrade to business class for their effort.
Almost everyone agrees that flying with only carry-on luggage is a non-negotiable. This has always been my bugaboo; I'm a proponent of filling a suitcase with options, especially when the trip is work-related. But realistically, there's no reason why a person travelling for a few days should need to take half a closet's worth of clothes.
The wardrobe of a successful road warrior is well-considered, and often the result of trial and error.
Men typically opt for convenience clothing. When Tim Felesky goes away for work, he'll bring Dockers stain-resistant pants even though they may not be his first choice. My only caveat here is that these garments are typically less formal.
Unlike most men I know, Mr. Felesky says he is an expert with the iron, which most hotels will gladly provide. "It's not just a hobby; there's some instruction required," says the sales associate with Lexus of London, who travels four times yearly and credits his mother with teaching him Ironing 101.
One reader from Bermuda pointed out that looking your best even applies to golf conventions, especially in Bermuda, where locals take pride in looking polished.
MaryEllen Bailey has logged more than 100 flights annually for the past two years. She says that such an astonishing amount of travel means abiding by the adage, "Take half as many clothes as you think
you need and twice as much money."
What's fun about this inverse relationship between outfits and spending is that it allows people an opportunity not only to shop and to wear their new purchases, but also to fit them into their luggage.
Ms. Bailey, who works in pharmaceuticals, also leaves certain items in her suitcase when she's home so that she doesn't have to remember to pack them each trip. These include a travel alarm clock, a small umbrella, a bathing suit, a tote bag that can be folded flat and used as a purse, and "travel running shoes" that are not marathon-grade but will suffice for walking or on hotel treadmills.
Speaking of marathons, Toronto-based consultant Laura Manes earns the award for most exhausting schedule. She travels every week - mostly from Toronto to Montreal - for work.
She's become a packing pro. "There's been a process of learning and editing," she says. "In the beginning, you're not sure what you need, so you pack everything."
Ms. Manes always packs according to the following system: Shoes go at the bottom, gym clothes, T-shirts and jeans get rolled into the empty spaces "to try and make as flat a surface as possible," shirts and suits are folded flat on top and, at the very top, she puts her pyjamas to protect the suits.
Cosmetics go in the outside pockets (this, by the way, is not recommended for anyone checking a bag, since the weight of other suitcases can cause bottles or containers to squish or explode).
She prefers knit tops to blouses because they're warmer and don't require ironing, but she also points out that they're less formal.
Colour co-ordination is also key. Using neutral suits (as in black, navy, grey) as her foundation, she'll select a red or burgundy scheme for accents one week, turquoise the next and pink or purple after that.
This rotation strategy is the equivalent of going on autopilot, although it's probably unnecessary for anyone who takes fewer than a dozen work trips a year.
By streamlining her packing, Ms. Manes leaves accessories such as jewellery or scarves at home. "It's probably going to be pretty simple," she admits, adding that it works "as long as you're okay with not looking your best every day."
She also encourages people to forgo the blow dryer
and use travel as a chance to wear hair naturally and "live simply."
Here's where we differ: My experience with female friends, family members and colleagues leads me to believe that women fear the thought of bad hair days.
So I say reward yourself for all the work by visiting a nearby salon. A blow dry typically costs less than $50 and - marathon notwithstanding - will last the duration of a three-day trip.
averner@globeandmail.com
