Socks! Something so small can wreak so much havoc in packing. Oh sure you can cram the little buggers into a pair of shoes or down some boots, or even ball them up within hollowed out lacquered alligators, that’s all fine and dandy. But what if you’re leaving for 12 days and only have three pairs of shoes? Or you’re not smuggling alligators?

I’m going to pepper them throughout the case – filling any crevasse or nook or granny (granny? is that right?) until they’re all in there.

For the record, I’m bringing 6 pairs of dress socks (including my rockin’ cow skull ones) 16 pairs of booty socks. I may be overpacking these buggers but I hate being forced to re-wear dirty socks. I use to have a room mate who *just didn’t get* the concept of foot hygiene. Once a week one of us sharing the apartment had to remind him “it was time”. And he changed his socks. The man was an artistic genius, but when it came to personal smells, he was oblivious.

I’d rather be dumb than a stinky foot genius.

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