drag

I travelled to six countries with one dress, here’s how I styled it

Photography and words by Constance McDonald

“Despite being in such high rotation, I’m still not sick of wearing her.”

Look, I know TikTok is force-feeding you packing content. I, too, am all for packing cubes (my top pick is the Ikea Parkla ones). Likewise, I’m practically married to my portable charger, the Anker PowerCore and I immensely enjoy the moments I can offer it to a traveller lamenting her phone is on five per cent battery (I’m an eavesdropper, unbecoming, I know).

I’m against leather passport holders (you have to remove them for the e-gates, yawn), and I’m all for packing light. Not in the beauty department – my Mason Pearson comes everywhere with me – but in terms of my travelling outfit. I travel with one dress and a pair of platform flip flops.


For more fashion news, shoots, articles and features, head to our Fashion section.


This dress, she is everything.​​ We’ve travelled to six countries together, from Korea to Greece and most recently, Morocco. Despite being in such high rotation, I’m still not sick of wearing her. If I’m to break down what makes this dress so perfect, her ‘Holy Trinity’ is this: 1. The high thread cotton (‘Father’), 2. The merino fabric (‘Son’), and 3. The styling versatility (‘Holy Spirit’).

Father: High thread cotton skirt

One of my many passions is seeking out Egyptian cotton bedsheets at op shops. I can close my eyes and feel the sheets between my index finger and thumb and in half a second know if it’s pure cotton and over 800 thread count. I’ve spent years honing this skill and my blind-feel success rate has settled around 99 per cent, I’ve dressed many friends’ beds in $1-a-pop Egyptian bedsheets.

It’s a similar concept to those TikToks of Nonnas guessing the bread loaf based on the sound of the crunch while blindfolded (I’ve daydreamed about this as a reality game show segment, where contestants would be presented with an item of clothing and they have to state the fabric blend percentages: “Locking in 85 per cent silk and 15 per cent cashmere.”).

All of this to say, the high-thread count cotton skirt of my favourite travel dress is a revelation. It’s like wrapping myself in hotel sheets on the inevitable long-haul buses I find myself on. The skirt of the dress is wrinkle-resistant, low maintenance and no, you don’t have to iron it ever. I could never recommend travelling with any item you must iron. Travel Day also features my biggest, bulkiest cardigan, a Nonna Lietta alpaca number, handmade in Greece, that easily transforms into a makeshift pillow.

Son: Merino singlet top

While Lululemon leggings are often praised as the go-to travel attire for their comfort and stretch, there’s a noxious downside when it comes to their spandex-heavy fabric. Spandex doesn’t breathe. It traps heat, moisture and therefore holds onto odours after just one wear. After a day of travel, you are marinating.

This brings me to the merino singlet top of the dress: odour-resistant, antibacterial, breathable. She could survive three days and still be fresh(ish) due to the way merino wicks moisture away from the body, especially in the armpit region. This is essential because I still have not found a natural deodorant that works. Now, I know what you’re thinking; ‘Merino in summer, Con?!’ Honey, yes.

Screenshot

Merino is like breastmilk. When my sister had her son, Teddy, I became privy to the world of postpartum biological processes. She told me that breast milk adapts to the baby’s needs; their saliva transfers chemicals to the mother’s body and beep-bop, whatever the baby needs more of is served up. Baby is sick? More immune-supporting substances like antibodies and white blood cells. Is it bedtime? More melatonin. Merino is temperature-regulating, keeping you cool in the summer and warm in the winter. See? Like breast milk!

Holy Spirit: Styling versatility

This dress is a divine garment I always come back to. It earns its spot in my limited luggage allowance due to its angel-like shapeshifting ability (a classic silhouette, which suits all my friends). Take, for example, Limor, a friend I made on the beach on the Greek island of Lesbos. I stepped in when I saw her brother take just one photo of her on her phone, when she had been offering up at least a dozen poses.

For the next 10 days we were inseparable, drinking a down-to-earth mix of ouzo and water at the nude beach. When clothing was required, we borrowed each other’s. She took a particular liking to this dress.

Restaurant, or ferry, the dress always rises to the occasion. I’ve even wiped my tears with the hem while in a police station in Vietnam after my cameras were stolen from my locked locker. I wore it while recovering from my broken arm, in Korea, with my balloon-like Frisson Knits sleeves that could handle the breadth and width of my plaster cast.

It goes well with my current fixation, a combo of my 50 cent flea market red tights and goat fur slippers, which I took to a cobbler to transform into an outdoor shoe. If I may, my next #traveltip for you: always keep a T-shirt or silk scarf in your handbag so you can pop it on top of whatever you are wearing for modesty, when entering a cathedral you stumble upon by chance. You will be unsurprised to learn that my T-shirt of choice is red. Also, it’s great for protecting your shoulders from the sun, perhaps the one thing the dress doesn’t do.

This is contextually similar to the ‘subway shirt’, a concept and product by Kelley Heyer, who also created the viral ‘Apple’ dance choreography to Charli XCX’s song of the same name, earlier this year. Essentially it’s a T-shirt you put on to ride the subway to conceal your outfit until your destination (the aim is to lower chances of being sexually harassed on your journey).

I’m not trying to influence you to buy this exact dress, but to consider the genius combination of merino and high-thread count cotton. If you can find that elsewhere, go for it. Utilise every washing machine you come across, travel by ferry and pretend it’s a cruise, search Reddit to find the ATMs with the lowest fees, and find a dress that over-joys you when you do the maths to work out its cost-per-wear.

For more on travel capsule wardrobes, watch this.

Lazy Loading