What are the Fat Sisters Wearing?

You asked for more about the Fat Sisters, so we’re telling you more about the Fat Sisters

Previously.

Jen: I have two very firmly held beliefs. The first is that most of the time, most people take too many clothes with them when they travel because they believe that they will somehow magically become a different, celebrity-adjacent person while on holiday. I get it, I’ve done it, and I know that it is simply not true. As the old saying goes, “wherever you go, there you are” and if you don’t usually wear something made from six metres of ruffled cream silk in your day to day life, I bet you any money that you will feel like an absolute tit if you try to do it in a random bar somewhere on the French coast.  

Caroline: As far as I can tell, this folly is exactly what the shop “Free People” was invented for.

Jen: Correct. The second is that taking exactly the right amount of things with you when you travel is one of the finest natural highs available. And that is why I have a folder in my notes app labelled ‘Packing Lists.’ I love packing lists, and have one for any trip I take. I tend to them like they are beautiful and precious gardens. Sometimes, after I get back, I look back at my packing list and I make notes about how it could be improved upon, which is something I should probably be ashamed of, but am not. In fact, I’m so not ashamed that I’m making Caroline do it as part of this newsletter. 

My Interrail packing list was the work of many months and much thought, and I suspect that it may be among my greatest works to date - truly embodying the credo that a long trip is merely a multiple of a five or six day trip. It is definitely worth noting, though, that despite this being The Fashion Edit, fashion is not what I would call the driving force of my decisions. I am travelling out of a single small backpack for a month, so I’m more hoping not to look too bad than I am trying to look especially good. Please adjust your expectations accordingly. 

Caroline: I co-sign the above, because I agree with basically everything Jen has ever said or done, because she is wonderful and I am a skeeving, agreeable little toad. I will add this though, for colour and context: Jen is a highly organised person in almost everything she does. I, meanwhile, have three folders on my laptop for sorting my entire life, and those three folders are called “downloads”, “documents” and “terriers”. My world is heaps of things lost under other heaps of things. The joy of Packing for me is that it is a tiny area where I, a disorganised person, can cosplay as organised.

A huge part of managing this cosplay has been packing cubes. If you are naturally disorganised, you must not deal in pockets. Zippy pockets, pockets within bags, pockets in clothes. Pockets are the black arts. A few days ago a miniature tube of toothpaste went into a pocket somewhere and I am comfortable now that I will never see him again. 

What is a packing cube? A packing cube is a thin, flimsy little bag, hopefully in a pretty colour. Your clothes get rolled up into tight, croissant-shaped balls and smothered into one cube. Your knickers, bras and socks go into another cube. Cosmetics in another. That way if you have to go into your bag to get, say, a clean t-shirt and a bit of deodorant, you don’t have to destroy the ordered cafe society of your bag. You only have to zip down two cubes while the rest of the bag remains in harmony.

You can have many cubes as you want but you must never use a pocket. Do you hear me? Never. 

In the interests of brevity, we have each picked a few things we brought that have really Gone the Distance - the MVPs, if you will - plus a couple of areas where we could have improved. There are links here where products are still available, but a lot of our stuff is old and lost to the retail mists of time, sorry. 

Caroline: 

Uniqlo ‘Airism’ shirts: Uniqlo has this thing called Airism now which is essentially a kind of Lycra t-shirt material. They roll up tiny, they are very flattering to my specific body type (long torso, big tits) and pair really well with every bottoms I have brought: namely, a high waisted black trouser, a black legging, and a black skirt. I have brought two Airism T-shirts in black and two in white. They don’t need to be ironed, ever. They dry quickly. Things drying quickly is a big part of Fat Sister harmony. We do a wash once a week and generally we’re checking out the next morning, so shit needs to get dry. I love these shirts. They do get a little bit stinky on account of being polyester, so I think next time I do a trip like this I’m going to invest in this chic Febreeze type thing. 

Massimo Dutti hooded cardigan: You know how you can live on a street that has six separate betting shops but you don’t really notice them because you don’t gamble? That’s how I feel about Massimo Dutti. For years it danced on the edge of my consciousness, just some random gloomy posh woman shop, Zara for rich widows maybe. The last couple of years MD has opened itself up to me like a flower. The stuff is good quality, it washes well. It lasts. My best thing is this cashmere blend hooded cardigan. It’s the only warm layer I brought on this trip, which is a huge pressure for a small cardi, but she’s done so well. She’s anonymous, she’s cosy, she goes with everything. 

Small silky scarf: There is no point in ever buying a pair of sunglasses that costs more than twenty quid. I have lost too many pairs of RayBans to ever cope with the grief of losing another, so I just buy shitty ones from Accessorise at the beginning of every holiday. But the drawback of cheap sunglasses is that the little nose prongs get caught in your hair when you push your sunglasses back. Just how in the FUCK am I supposed to elegantly stroll from bright streets and into dimly lit galleries if I have hair caught in my glasses?

Observe: the small silky scarf. You fold it into a headband. The sunglasses, then, go on TOP of the headband. No tangles ever again. Heaven. 

But wait! That’s not all! The small silky scarf can be a sleep mask for when your AirBnB has a slip of gauzy tissue paper instead of a real curtain. It can be a bandana on the days your hair is greasy or just wet from being in the sea. Your hair is doing all sorts of crazy stuff on holiday, and flattening it down with a silky bandana makes it less frizzy later. I love it. I bought this small silky scarf in Lush for seven euro and it has been with me every moment of every day. 

Realisation Par ‘Stephanie’ dress: This Realisation Par dress is the most versatile dress I own. I wore it to my engagement party. I wore it to the barbecue the day after my wedding. I’ve worn it as beach cover up; I’ve worn it with tights and jumper in the winter. It’s not a stunning dress or anything, it doesn’t do magic things to my body. But it’s cute and anonymous and the tomato red is the exact right shade for my skin. You can wear it a lot without feeling like people are noticing that you’re wearing it a lot. You know? And that shouldn’t matter to me but it does.

These Lululemon trousers: Like you, I also suspect that Lululemon is trying to do too much at once, and strongly suspect that if they continue unchecked they will start moving into bridal and christening wear. However. These trousers are perfect. Loose, airy, but fitted. The right length for me (5’8) and the right waist height for all my tops, which I like to sit just below the ribs.

Room for improvement: 

1. I only brought one thing to sleep in, and I wish I had another. Just a thin nightgown so that when the sweaty sleeps and post-beach naps come to claim me, I have something fresh to wear.

2. A dry bag. I’ll admit I didn’t know what a dry bag was before this holiday, so what was I going to do, but I really envy Jen having something to put her swimsuit in at the end of an afternoon.

3. I brought a pair of bicycle shorts. Why? Did I come to the continent looking for thrush?

JEN: 

Sezane Betty jacket / cardigan: This is a piece of clothing which stalked me around the internet for ages before I finally gave in and bought it. I’m still a little bit traumatised by the Cardigan Years of the early 2010s - not because cardigans are inherently bad, just because I wore far too many for someone who already looked a bit like a haunted doll. What sold me on this one is that it is marketed as a “jacket”: it’s got enough structure to the knit to hold its shape rather than flopping all over the place. It’s got little pockets over the tits (handy!) and also it’s cropped and therefore a friend to those not blessed with length. It’s merino, so it’s very warm without taking up lots of space in a Fat Sister, and it has become a staple of both my daily and travel wardrobe. It comes in a whole rainbow of colours: mine is apple green, which is fun, and also hopefully helps Caroline to locate me when I scurry off in crowded places. 

Batoko swimsuit: In an ideal world, I would only ever swim nude, but the law is the law I guess. I bought this bright blue swimsuit covered in stars and narwhals last year when I finally realised that I hate trying to look sexy in swimwear, and decided to pursue the joy of a toddler at the seaside instead. It was a great decision - and, as it happens, earns me more compliments than any other swimwear I’ve ever worn. I highly doubt that anyone who’s bought one has ever regretted it. 

Long patterned dress of many years’ wear: You can’t buy this dress because I’ve had it for about six years, but I want to tell you about it so that you can find something which is of the same spirit. It is extremely light - it’s made of lyocell so it packs down to nothing and dries in about ten seconds - it’s a neutral colour (for me), and is patterned without being overwhelming. It works as well beside a large body of water as it does in a restaurant or bar - which is to say imperfectly but passably - and can be layered with a shirt, jacket, or cardigan. When I wear it, it immediately feels like The Holidays. It has been my go-to for travel as long as I’ve had it and it will continue to be until it falls from my body in tattered rags. I think it cost me about £40 originally, and I truly believe that if you can find and commit to a dress like this, it will save you SO much time, stress, and money on last minute “summer dress?!?!?!” online shopping searches. 

Archaeologist shirt aka. Benetton Short Shirt in Pure Linen : A crucial part of packing light is boring tops. I have five with me, and four are either black, grey, or cream. This one is perhaps the dullest of them all and it is also my hero. It is long and loose enough to be worn as an overshirt with a dress or tank top, but also short enough to hold its own with trousers and a French workwear jacket on travel days. The sleeves are a length I’ve never encountered before, but one that just… works? This undyed linen colour goes with everything else I own, including the undyed linen bucket hat that I never leave the house without in summer because the sun is my mortal enemy. The hat and the shirt together do make me look like an archaeologist, yes, but I think archaeology may be underrated as a profession in these post Time Team days, and I am happy to do my small part to raise awareness for those who explore the ancient world with trowels and brushes. 

Everlane Tencel Utility Pants (they’re trousers): Normally I favour either jeans (for winter) or linen trousers (for summer) as a packing staple but I decided to mix things up this time because it’s May and therefore I need a trouser that can handle a bit of spring uncertainty. These trousers are the only clothing I bought specifically for this trip and they’ve been perfect in most ways - soft but hard wearing, not too hot and not too bulky, quick drying, respectably cropped of ankle (I’m 5’4”), and go with anything. However, in one respect that I have already complained about on the podcast, they are very annoying. I was between two sizes and I opted for the bigger one for comfort / pizza reasons, but didn’t realise that they really relax with wear, and so now are verging on comically large. I chalk this up to experience and say to you: great trousers, but if you get them, get them tight. 

Room for improvement:

Other than not buying oversize clown trousers, my main notes to self for this trip are: 

1. Leggings might be more practical than brightly coloured silky harem pants, but they’re also boring and I hate them. Next time, I will bring my gap year specials. 

2. At no point have I wished I had more tops, but there was one day when I was more excited than I’ve ever been to see and use a washing machine, which is why for future trips I think I will try to find a non-heinous merino t-shirt.

3. The raincoat that I panic-packed on the morning of the trip because I was woken by a massive thunderstorm has been worn for about 90 minutes so far. It’s possible that it’s acted like a witch’s charm and fended off the worst spring storms for us. It’s also possible that my initial instinct - that the world’s smallest umbrella would have been enough for the few times we’ve properly gone out in the rain, while taking up about 10% of the space in the Fat Sister - was correct.  

4. Woollen gloves. Honestly, I have no idea what I was thinking or why I have now carried these completely useless accessories across a thousand miles of Europe. I really thought I was better than this.