There are basically two schools of thought on the subject of packing. The first is the minimalist school. This is the "nothing but the essentials" approach. Toothbrush, one change of clothes, maybe something to read. Most of the adherents to this school are men who never had to pack for anyone but themselves and relied on their wives to carry everything else, like the Metamucil or the athlete's foot spray.
The second school of thought is the "everything but the kitchen sink" approach. Summery clothes just in case it gets warm. Wintery clothes just in case it gets cold. Evening dress just in case the Prime Minister invites you to dinner. A toe ring just in case you find yourself at a NASCAR race. The entire contents of your bahrroom cabinet.
While I aspire to becoming a member of the first school, experience has taught me this is pipe dream. Taking the minimalist approach, I have learned, virtually guarantees an invitation to the PM's table. On the other hand, when you pack twelve outfits cover g any and a
L occasions, you will almost certainly end you vacation in a pair of capris and a tee shirt. That's just the way it is.
No, there are no winners in the packing game. I always feel like a jerk packing as much as I do, but I have come to believe it is better to feel like a jerk than have to spend half your clothing allowance for next year on a last minute evening outfit.
So I overpack. Heck, there are worse thing, right?