Fun with packing

Trust me on this

Jackie C travels in style

I used to consider packing an activity just one down the list of brain-curdling activities from doing my tax return.

Particularly when it was for three weeks attending fashion shows in London, Milan and Paris. Because I couldn’t take every garment I owned.

What if I woke up one morning in Paris and realised the only thing that I could that possibly wear that day was my vintage naval officer’s jacket? What if intense risotto consumption in Milan put me up a dress size?

I would end up with an enormous suitcase, which was a nightmare to wrangle in and out of taxis etc and required a commitment of time to unpack and repack, as I moved from city to city and hotel to hotel.

That has all changed. Now I positively look forward to selecting the minimum items possible. I never take a case larger than a carry-on wheelie. Half of it taken up by sponge bag and make up kit.

Of course, it is easier to plan outfits when you aren’t going to be surrounded by the most stylish women on earth, watching the most beautiful women on earth strutting about in the most desirable clothes on earth… but the main thing that has made the difference is these objects.

Packing cubes.

I saw them first on TikTok, where there is a whole genre of gripping clips showing just how much you can cram into a small case, once it is compressed by these double-zip devices.

So here’s how I pack now.

One of my speciality out-of-focus images, possibly a good thing in the circs

Assemble the gear, with plenty of trying on and a rough calculation of how many different outfit combos the selection yields, taking into account known upcoming events.

In this case: indoor crazy golf, night out in classic Liverpool pub, cultural outing on a very rainy day, coq au vin in front of I’m A Celebrity, six days in an office. And not forgetting a PANTO. (‘Scouse Dick Whittington’… I’m beside myself with anticipation.)

Then I fold each item to the exact size for its place in the Cube.

You’re not drunk, it’s my fuzzy picture, but the key thing is to note the perfect dimensions of the folded garments. (I’ve got seven planets in Virgo, stuff like this makes me happy)

To stop things getting creased in the mighty grip of the compression, I fold them round plastic bags (laundry sacks hoarded from hotel stays).

This an advanced level, three-in-one fold

This was a tip given to me many years ago by fashion designer Jasper Conran and it works a treat. Much better than tissue paper, because the plastic doesn’t take a crease.

Then layer your folded gear into a Cube – this was for a ten-day trip, so I used two, usually one is enough.

Yes, I have packed five scarves

Zip once to get a neat package.

Zip twice and the cubes becomes wafers. Do a Wimbledon-point victory gesture. Possibly shout: YAY!

Look at them! Dontcha just love it?

Pop the cubes into your carry-on wheelie. Where two fit perfectly, as they’ve been designed for exactly this use.

Pure packing poetry

Zip it up and persuade your cat to pose to show scale.

A very rare instance of Gonzo doing what I want him to. I might buy a lottery ticket. (Please don’t judge badly-made bed.)

I bought my packing cubes on Amazon. About £25 for five – two small, two medium (shown here), one large. For a couple of nights away, I use one small one.

As well as the ultra-satisfying gadgetty fiendishness of the Zipping moment, the other things I love about them is that they keep your clothes neat in the suitcase, so you can open it on the train to get something out (this laptop) without all your garments falling out onto the filthy carpet for all to see.

They also provide protection against shoe-sole muck and shampoo leakage.

Never have small squares of polyester delivered so much joy. Just make sure you order Compression Packing Cubes, with the two zips, not the straight ones. They are a bore.