What I am packing, clockwise from top left: white shirt with tiny black dots, navy/cream Breton top, soft grey top (all long sleeves); black double-breasted jacket; drab multiple personality skirt (it's 2 halves of different skirts, one narrow and one full); men's blue jeans*; red flats; black tights; white t-shirts; and (below) my brown desert boots.Packing for trips to Los Angeles** always pose a particular headache for me. It is symbolic of my inability to click, emotionally, with L.A. that choosing what to bring is so hard. It is the one place where I have most often been unjustifiably dissatisfied with whatever I pack, which leads me to miss my closet, though I am obviously missing more than that.
Like most everyone, my parents are nuts (hi mom), and that might come up in my posts during this trip, but even independent of the family circus, L.A. and I were never meant for each other.
*My beloved Levis? Hecho en Mexico.
**My place of origin.
(Posts might be a few hours off for the next week, due to the time change for me.)