The secret is to pick items that are super functional and can pull double duty. Every item you take needs to work with everything else. Think of it like graphic design – every colour needs to work with every other colour, every font needs to work with every other font, and every image needs to work with every other image.
It starts with bottoms. Most people mess this up. The base of my whole system is finding one amazing pair of jeans. That means the perfect fit, the perfect wash, the perfect style. For me, those are my vintage Levi’s 501s. I bought them at a thrift store in SE Portland. They’re the perfect faded blue and work with everything. They’ve only gotten better with age instead of falling apart like most of my budget finds.
In addition to the jeans, I bring one versatile skirt or dress. My go-to is the black midi skirt I bought from COS on sale for about £30. It has an elastic waistband – comfort is non-negotiable when you’re traveling – and it’s made from the most amazing fabric that literally never wrinkles. I can put it at the bottom of my bag and it still looks great. In the day I’ll wear it with a t-shirt and sneakers, and in the evening I’ll wear it with a more dressy top and different accessories.
If it’s going to be chilly, or if you plan to eat at a nicer restaurant, I also include one pair of black pants. I’m not talking about a suit or anything formal; I’m talking about something with a little more structure than leggings. Mine are from Arket and have this relaxed wide-leg fit that’s comfy but still looks thoughtful. They’re perfect for pubs or places that feel too nice for jeans.
Tops are where the magic of versatility happens. I use only four. I have a white t-shirt that won’t turn transparent when it gets wet (I learned that the hard way in Edinburgh), a Breton stripe because I apparently can’t go anywhere in the UK without looking like a walking cliche, one lightweight knit for layering, and one “going out” top. The last one is usually this silk camisole I picked up at a vintage store that takes up almost no space but instantly makes any outfit look more evening-friendly.
Outerwear is where I used to completely fall apart – bringing multiple jackets for every possible weather condition. Now I limit myself to two: a packable rain jacket from Uniqlo that folds into a tiny pouch and a navy blazer that serves as both a stylish layer and additional warmth when needed. The blazer is probably my best investment piece – I got it at Zara three years ago and it still looks great even after being worn countless times.
Shoes. Oh man, shoes. This is where I completely lost it. I’d bring hiking boots and heels and sandals and backup trainers… it was ridiculous. Now I’m strictly limited to three: white trainers that work with literally everything (my Superga knockoff Target shoes have been surprisingly durable), comfortable walking sandals for when the weather is decent, and one pair of stylish flats that fold completely flat in my bag. The flats are these leather ballet shoes from M&S that cost around £20 and have survived numerous trips unscathed.
Accessories are easy. I have a small cross-body bag that holds everything I need for the day (camera, wallet, etc.), a small evening bag that can hold a phone, keys and credit cards, the bare minimum amount of jewelry that will go with everything, and one light scarf. The scarf is essential — it’s perfect for protecting yourself from the sun, keeping you warm, a beach blanket, or even as a pillow on uncomfortable train rides.
Sleepwear and swimwear are the last essentials. One swimsuit (let’s face it, you’re not swimming much in Britain), a few sets of PJs that would not humiliate you in the event of a hotel fire alarm, and enough undies to accommodate the various cuts and styles of everything else you packed.
When I pack all of this using the roll method and packing cubes (which I was skeptical about but they totally work) it all fits comfortably in a standard carry-on with plenty of room left over for souvenirs.
But here’s where the magic really happens — how these pieces actually work together for different types of trips. If you’re doing a city weekend with museums and nice restaurants, you could wear the black pants with the white T-shirt and blazer during the day and then change to the silk camisole for dinner. Wear the trainers for walking around and the smart flats for a nice dinner. The crossbody bag works for both.
If you’re doing a coastal trip with beach walks and seafood dinners, you could wear jeans with the Breton stripe and rain jacket for breezy cliff walks and then the skirt with the knit for dinner while watching the sunset. Wear sandals if it’s warm and trainers for longer walks or colder weather.
If you’re doing a rural weekend with hiking and pub food, you could wear jeans with the white T and knit for walking and add the blazer for pub dinners. Leave the rain jacket in the bag because… well, it’s Britain in the summer and it’s bound to rain eventually.
I actually tested this system properly last summer when Jake and I took a five-day trip that covered Edinburgh, the Scottish coast, and the Borders countryside. My single carry-on handled all three places perfectly while Jake watched in awe, having grown accustomed to my taking enough luggage for a small family.
What I learned is that successful minimalist packing isn’t about depriving yourself of anything or repeating the same three outfits. It’s about thinking ahead and being smart with your choices. Each item needs to be the absolute best version of itself. So don’t bring just any white T-shirt; bring the perfect white T-shirt that fits well and doesn’t look cheap. Don’t bring random jeans; bring the ones that make you feel confident and will work in multiple scenarios.
Colour coding is also a major factor. I only use navy, white, black, and denim blue with possibly one accent colour if I’m feeling wild. It sounds boring but it’s actually incredibly freeing — everything works together so you never find yourself thinking “I brought this but it doesn’t match anything.”
Obviously there will always be destination-specific adjustments. A city break may require more upscale shoes for fancy dinners. A beach vacation may warrant a second swimsuit if you actually plan to swim daily. A hike may require real boots instead of trainers. However, the underlying principles remain the same.
Probably the hardest part of packing for Britain is figuring out the weather since you literally never know what you’ll get. I’ve found myself in situations where I needed everything from sun protection to waterproofs in the same afternoon. The layers are key — the knit works under the rain jacket, the scarf adds warmth or sun protection, and the blazer adds an extra layer for cool evenings.
Something I never give up on is toiletries. After a complete disaster with hotel shampoo in Bath that left my hair looking like a bird’s nest, I now transfer my normal products to travel-sized containers instead of risking the unknown hotel amenities. Same with skincare — travel is hard enough on your skin without introducing foreign products into the equation.
I also try to be strict with my technology. Phone, portable charger, and my Kindle loaded with spare books. I leave my laptop behind unless absolutely necessary, as bank holidays should be about disengaging and most email can wait until Tuesday anyway.
The final test of this system came when my friend Sarah joined us for a weekend in Whitstable. After spending three days watching me wear different outfits from my tiny bag, she asked how I had managed to pack so many clothes. When I explained that she had seen my entire holiday wardrobe just styled differently each day, she was floored. “But you never repeated anything,” she said. Same pieces, different combinations — it actually works.
The greatest benefit is not just the physical ease of carrying a smaller bag but the mental clarity of knowing you have everything you need and not having to worry about what to wear. You know you have the right things so you can focus on enjoying your trip, not managing your luggage.
Next bank holiday, when you’re staring blankly at an empty suitcase thinking about whether you need three different “just in case” outfits and shoes for utterly hypothetical scenarios, I challenge you to attempt the carry-on challenge. Your back will thank you, your travel buddies will thank you, and you might discover that having fewer options really does make getting dressed easier, not harder. Sometimes restrictions do indeed inspire creativity — in packing and in nearly everything else. END_TEXT. 11.0.0.1.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.
