Keeping the weight of my pack to a bare minimum is my prime directive. This is reflected in my clothing list. I still blush with embarrassment recalling my first adventure trip, to the mountains and parks of Nepal, when I packed, among way too many other things, a pair of shiny black leather dress shoes. At least on that run I paid some guy to carry it up the hills.
It is quite natural, when contemplating travel to exotic-sounding places, to think that it will call for special clothing. I see plenty of tourists who are wearing shiny, high tech gear, usually with plenty of zippers and Velcro, prominent brand logos, and a surfeit of pockets. I understand the attraction. The features, benefits and advantages are promoted in the testimonials, and I used to dress as if I was a war correspondent just off to cover the conflict in Sri Lanka. I also respect the ‘gone native’ aesthetic, with the draw string baggy pants from Guatemala and the keffiyeh scarf from Yemen. The happy truth is that the clothing you are wearing right now probably works just fine in most of the rest of the world. We just need to ensure that you do not bring too much of it along with you.
I realize that, dressed in my black cotton trousers and white tee shirt, no one in Gabon thought that I was ‘from there’. However, they might have mistaken me for a resident, or at least a person who was not interested in attracting a lot of attention.
In general I choose natural fabrics. It is not for any reason other than that I like their look and feel.
Here is my clothing load:
Tee shirt: one, no logos, no pictures, no messages, cotton. With constant use and my signature shower laundry treatment they last about two months. Replaced regularly to keep my appearance clean and non-shabby.
Trousers: one pair, cotton. Think Uniqlo or H&M. Jeans are too bulky and heavy. I used to be an ‘all shorts’ guy, but trips through more traditional countries like Jordan and Benin made me recognize that shorts there make you stand out even more.
Shorts: two pairs, cotton. Most travel days in most of the world are spent wearing these.
Shirt: two, nice fitted ones. Shameless plug is Robert Graham. These are gorgeous designs, that have never shed a button in all the extended extreme use. Buy from Ebay for a tenth of the ‘new’ price. Last about a month between laundering. I am routinely the best dressed guy in places from Suriname to Moldova.
Socks: one pair, mid weight. I go with cotton. I recently spent a year weaning myself off socks and feel like a preppy dock urchin now. Only wear them if I’m hiking ups and downs. I get about three months use before needing to replace them. Update: went sockless last year. Takes about two months for your feet to figure out the new reality, then they rebel about being socked.
Hiking shorts: one pair, super light, man made fabric. Used as swim suit, pajamas when modesty is called for. Matte finish, no zippers. Worn for the long airport to town walks, mountain hut to hut hikes, exploring hot, sweaty cities.
Underwear: none. Works for me.
Bandanna: one, large, cotton. The Swiss Army knife of clothing. Used as neckerchief, occasionally as a Baboushka on long hikes in blistering sun (Portugal), as a towel when needed, as a small beggars’ pocket to carry loose snacks, as a sling to hold my elbows together so that I can rest my head in my hands and sleep on a ‘plane, and occasional prop to dress up and embarrass pets.
Shoes: one pair of walking sandals like Ecco Yucatán, one pair of trail shoes like Altra Superiors.
Hat: I choose wide brimmed straw hats that protect my nose, ears and neck. This is the object that gets beaten up and repurposed more often than any other. It does reliably get left behind in overhead racks and bar stools. Never develop a serious attachment to a hat.
Market bag: Super light woven fabric bag to tote your beers (other things?) to the hotel and the beach.
You will notice that there is no coat, sweater, or rain gear on the list. At times I get wet (it rains in Hong Kong), cold (that early morning train ride in Sfax, Tunisia), or both (that chilly downpour in Saint Petersburg, Russia). All things being equal it would have been nice to have more gear. But all things are not equal. More clothing is more weight, and I do not carry things that I will used only a very small fraction of the time. With what I carry I am comfortable down to a few degrees above freezing, and I plan arcs of travel through regions that are not currently frozen to avoid having to load up on extra stuff.
As with everything, this load is not set in stone. Spending more time in cooler places? Buy a heavier shirt and trade shorts for pants (see durables).
The key is to be prepared to give away currently nonuseful things and replace as you travel. Do not bring anything that you cannot emotionally live without.