to bring or not to bring

When Carrie Bradshaw went to Paris to live with the Russian, she took four suitcases: two Luis Vuittons, and two Vivienne Westwood numbers. Might I remind you, girlfriend was planning on spending an indefinite amount of time in the City of Lights. Now what I want to know is how on earth did she managed to fit her wardrobe, particularly that Versace ballgown, in just four bags? Are we supposed to believe such an extortion of reality? I would be down right insulted if HBO thought we were that naïve.

I have been asked lately if I have started packing yet, and I always try to come up with some excuse to justify my avoidance for starting the tumultuous process. In fact, I have not started; it is just too overwhelming. I just have too much stuff! I find myself standing in the doorway of my closet, gazing at my clothes—“Hello, Phillip Lim leather jacket”—wondering how I can concoct a plant to get them all safely to Paris. They must be there. I must have them all.

Realistically, there is no possible way for me to take my entire wardrobe with me. It simply will not fit. But knowing me, I will want—no, I will crave—the pair of shoes I leave behind. I will obsess over my omissions. That is just the kind of person I am.

So this weekend, I am placing it upon myself to evaluate each piece and make the careful, and inevitably painful, decision: to bring or not to bring. I will just have two keep important two things in mind while doing so: 1) There are plenty, if not more, fabulous shopping opportunities in Paris. 2) If Carrie Bradshaw can edit her wardrobe down to four measly suitcases, despite the fact that they were Vuittons and Westwoods, there is certainly hope for me.