In a few weeks, Ally and I are going to Tanzania and Zanzibar (with a great group of people). This will be the first time I’ve been anyplace like this. This is not Paris, or Venice, with its street chic and museums and gustatory glory, and it certainly ain’t no disco. This is a major adventure, and a very different part of the world.
And already I’m experiencing the adventure of packing, having learned that modesty is everything in this part of Africa. Do you know I have 20 dresses, none of which are below my knee or have sleeves! As a freelance writer, I’m either in my Lulu workout clothes, or jeans, or leggings (or a dress that is above my knee without sleeves!). I wear a lot of jewelry. I love a jacket, my leather jacket in particular. I live for cashmere. I’m big on black and white. This is not African wear. And when in Rome, well, you know.
What’s funny is how unsettling it feels to break out of my normal clothing routine, like I am not myself. My husband could care less what he wears, and would just as soon show up at work in his boxer shorts. But me, I’m more particular. My clothes have always reflected my mood, and my attitude. My idea of getting dressed up is jeans with more jewelry and better shoes.
Anyway, this has been interesting, to not only be going somewhere that is completely out of my comfort zip code, but also forces me out of my jeans. I am so wildly grateful for this opportunity to share this trip with some people who I love, I’m even willing to wear a skirt below my knees. Stay tuned!