Checked Baggage is Soooo Last Year

There’s a very specific kind of joy in walking off an international flight, gliding past the baggage carousel, and heading straight toward adventure without waiting for a single thing to roll down a conveyor belt. That joy? It’s called carry-on-only travel. And once you experience it, there’s no going back.

I was reminded of this while packing for an upcoming six-day trip stateside. It’s nothing wild, just a quick hop with some meetings, maybe a rooftop dinner or two, and a lot of time in transit. As I mentally scanned my closet, muscle memory kicked in. No checked bag. No dragging. No waiting. Just the essentials, zipped and ready to go.

Packing light isn’t about sacrifice. It’s about freedom. It’s about never playing suitcase Tetris at baggage claim or muttering “please don’t be broken” at the carousel. It’s about knowing you have everything you need and none of what you don’t. And yes, it’s definitely about avoiding the moment you realize you’re hauling a bag the size of a small coffin up six un-air-conditioned flights of stairs in Rome.

So, whether you’re off to a city, a beach, a mountaintop, or all three in one glorious, jet-lagged blur, here’s how to pack like a pro with a carry-on, a personal item, and a great attitude. That’s it.

Let’s talk about real estate. Airlines all have their own deeply specific, occasionally passive-aggressive opinions about what qualifies as a “carry-on.” Some are generous. Some, well let’s just say they’re petty, shall we? So, before you zip that bag and pat yourself on the back, do a quick check of your airline’s size and weight limits. It takes five minutes. And it’s better than re-packing your life at the gate while 43 people watch. 

Generally speaking, your carry-on is the little roller or duffel that goes overhead. Your personal item is whatever fits under the seat in front of you, usually a backpack, tote, that one bag that magically holds 300% more than it looks like it should.

And if you’re flying one of those budget European airlines that treats luggage like a high-stakes negotiation? They might weigh your bags. Don’t play chicken with the scale. You will lose.

Pack for the trip you’re actually taking, not the imaginary one where you somehow go hiking and to a black-tie gala on the same day. Not the fantasy where you change outfits four times, don’t spill anything, and wear heels through cobblestone streets like it’s a perfume commercial. Pack for the real you who shows up.

Think comfort. Think versatility. Think, “Would I wear this at home, or am I lying to myself again?”

Here’s what you’d need for a week or so:

A few tops you actually wear on repeat. Two to three basics, one fun one (you know the one), and something slightly elevated for dinner or when you want to feel like your best self.

Two bottoms. One that works hard and one that plays nice. You know the one you have that dresses up, dresses down, and gets along with others.

One outfit that makes you feel like you’ve got it all together. Think dress, jumpsuit, tailored suit, matching set, etc.

A layer or two, because planes are cold and weather is moody. Think sweater, hoodie, jacket that won’t disintegrate in your bag.

Enough socks and underwear to last 4–5 days. Laundry’s a thing, so you don’t need your entire drawer. Rinse and reuse!

Sleepwear that can double as loungewear. Leggings or joggers you can wear for the flight and lazy mornings.

Oh, and pack the swimsuit. Even if there’s no pool in sight. One always finds you. Hot spring? Hotel spa? Impromptu boat day with strangers you met at brunch? You’ll be ready.

Shoes are the problem child of packing. They take up space, they get heavy, and they rarely earn their keep unless they’re pulling triple duty. So…three pairs. Max. Wear your bulkiest pair on the plane (boots or sneakers, whichever loves your feet most). In your bag have something lighter that still holds its own like sandals, flip flops, flats, or slip-ons. Something that can clock miles and still show up for dinner. And the third? Well, that’s your wildcard. I always opt for wedges that can dress things up but don’t demand their own packing cube.

Oh, and if you’re trying to justify heels for a trip that involves cobblestones, stairs, or any surface that isn’t smooth and forgiving, please don’t. Save your ankles, and save the space.

TSA ‘s rules on liquids are super sepcific, so every product has to earn its seat on the plane. Think of it in terms of being on a 12-hour flight, followed by a week somewhere your skin doesn’t know the climate. What are the MVPs that keep you feeling like a human? Bring those. You don’t need the 14-step skincare routine. You just need the essentials like a moisturizer with SPF, a tiny toothpaste and toothbrush set, some floss, a razor, a multi-use lip and hand balm, and a few makeup basics that actually get used. Bonus points for anything that multitasks like a lip + cheek tint, or highlighter + concealer hybrid.

Your personal item is prime real estate! This is your in-flight survival kit. Your failsafe. Your “just in case my carry-on gets gate-checked and thrown into the cargo abyss” plan.

You want your passport, wallet, phone, charger, backup battery, headphones, snacks, water bottle (empty at security but full once you’ve moved through), a pen, something to read, sanitizer, tissues, and just enough meds to MacGyver your way through a headache or altitude-induced sinus chaos. And pop in a clean shirt and fresh underwear, just enough to feel human if everything else goes sideways.

And the bag itself? Ideally, it zips, has a couple compartments, and won’t slice your shoulder open after ten minutes. Think in terms of something that can double as your day bag on the ground.

When it comes to packing, remember that technique matters!  Roll your clothes instead of folding. Use packing cubes. Stuff socks in shoes. Fill every inch like it’s a game and you came to win.

When you travel light, you’re actually living large, because it isn’t just about the bag. It’s about freedom.

It’s the freedom to say yes to the cheaper flight with the short layover because you don’t have to pray your suitcase makes the connection. It’s the freedom to breeze through the airport without dragging 40 pounds of “just in case.” It’s the freedom to roam, both literally and mentally, without lugging your entire life on your back.

You’ll move through the world lighter, sharper, ready for whatever the day throws at you (including rogue gelato runs, sudden weather shifts, and spontaneous side quests).

And when someone looks at your one perfectly packed bag and says, “Wait, that’s all you brought?” you’ll smile, swing it over your shoulder, flick your hair like never before, and say:

“Yep. And I even left room to take a little something back.”

Because you didn’t pack to impress, that’s just lagniappe! You packed to live. You packed for spontaneity, for adventure, and for joy. And that’s the good stuff. That’s the stuff that doesn’t take up much space in your suitcase at all.