So, I’m having some issues. I can’t decide which pairs of tight pants I want to pack in my new hippie backpack to bring down to South America with me.

Now, this may not seem like a big deal to you. In fact, some or maybe even most of you may be asking yourself why you’re even still reading this. “Seriously, is this bitch really going to write a whole dang blog entry on a couple of pairs of pants?” you ask.

Yes. Well, sorta.

See, while I’m quite a minimalist when it comes to furnishing my house (by the way, that comfortable double bed featuring a memory-foam mattress cover is still for sale!), I’ve never been a minimalist when it comes to clothing. Which is why it’s infinitely easier to give up all of my household items, than try to figure out if I want both the electric blue and the turquoise pairs of skinny jeans.

GODDAMN! I love tight pants! I also love sweatervests. And shorts. And all kinds of boots and boot-like sandals. And cardigans! And DIY, bedazzled sweatshirts! And dresses and blazers and weird hats, oh my!

Yes, I have a problem. And unfortunately, because I want the option to be 100 percent mobile 100 percent of the time I’m in South America (at least in the foreseeable future), I can’t bring everything. In fact, I only have 4,700 cubic inches of space to pack everything I need for the next few months.

To reiterate, I must somehow pack this:

Three garbage bags, two laundry bags, one suitcase and two carry-ons. Of motherf*cking tight pants! (And some other things, like monocles and spats.)

Three garbage bags, two laundry bags, one suitcase and two carry-ons of motherf*cking tight pants! (And some other things, like monocles and spats.)

Into this:

One dirty hippie backpack.

One dirty hippie backpack.

That’s like trying to fit a fat guy in a little coat!

And if I’m not careful, my sh*t’s going to burst forth from its tight quarters with the strength of 1,000 fat guys in little coats!

Hmm…something about that last sentence just doesn’t seem right.

But something about having this issue also doesn’t seem right. I mean, am I that attached to the things I wear that this is causing me actual stress? Yes. But why? Why is it so hard for me to look solely at function over form? And by “so hard,” I really mean “impossible.” I simply cannot give up a pair of tight jeans in place of some sort of specialized, quick-drying cargo pants without becoming totally self-conscious. I don’t feel like myself unless I’m dressed like myself. (I also don’t feel like myself if I don’t have my daily bean ration. Bean and fashion nourish my soul!)

That could mean one of two things, I suppose: Either I’m incredibly insecure and shallow, or I look at clothing as an extension of my personality. And, truthfully, I don’t know which one is right. I’d like to think I’m perfectly secure and “deep,” but if that were 100 percent so shouldn’t I then be able to dress like a typical backpacker and emit the same personality vibes? I just don’t see that happening. A little part of me dies when I don a pair of Tevas. That may sound melodramatic, but it’s kind of true…

Which brings me to what I hope is the real reason this downsizing process has been so hard for me — I view fashion as art. When you put thought into what you wear it becomes a visual representation of your personality. And just because I’m traveling, I don’t want to give that up.

At the same time, it’s not really practical to hike in these.

So there it is. My latest, possibly most ridiculous and superficial dilemma. Feel free to judge me. God knows I’m judging myself. But like I said, GODDAMN! I love tight pants! However, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over my years of global shambling it’s that where there’s a will, there’s a way. Or, more apropos, I suppose, where there’s an inseam there’s a packing scheme and I’ll be damned if I don’t figure it out.

But not before I watch another clip from Tommy Boy about never giving up. What an amazing and inspirational film that was…

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