The expandable travel bag I always pack in my carry-on
Our hack for bringing home special pieces from our travels
On my short list of life skills: my ability to pack for a two-week Europe trip in a carry-on bag.
Though I pack light, I also love buying special pieces when we travel. Our home is a little bit of a museum for beautiful, one-of-a-kind things we’ve schlepped across continents by plane, ferry, bus, and the occasional golf cart: An olivewood salad bowl from Athens, Greece. A terracotta army statue from Beijing, China. Green-stemmed wine glasses from Alsace, France.
On our trip to Oaxaca last year, I could see my girlfriends growing incredulous as I picked out candlesticks, ceramic bowls, and an oversize serving platter, unconcerned about how I was going to get it all home.
My secret hack? The Longchamp Pliage travel tote, an expandable weekender bag. Made of water-resistant nylon, the handy little tote folds flat into a tiny square when not in use.
On every international trip, I’ll stash the folded Longchamp tote in my carry-on bag. If I end up buying anything on a trip, I rearrange my things and check my carry-on bag on the journey home, whether this means putting bottles of Hungarian dessert wine in my checked bag and moving some clothes into the Longchamp, or simply transporting my newly acquired delicate ceramics in the Longchamp. (I’ve also gotten away with shoving my backpack into the Longchamp tote and avoiding checking a bag altogether, but can’t guarantee this will always work!)
Though yes, you do run the risk of a delayed bag every time you check bags, I don’t mind taking that risk on the return leg—when missing my toiletries for a few days wouldn’t be a huge issue.
I’ve owned my Longchamp tote for over a decade, and it still looks as good as new. The leather handles are handsome and sturdy, and there’s a detachable strap to carry it over your shoulder. Mine is in black—but loving the paper colorway, too.
Most recently, we painstakingly hand carried a two-foot vintage olive oil jar (pictured above) in my Longchamp from Paros to Santorini to Athens to DC to Denver… but it brings me joy every time I walk by it.
The next time you’re contemplating whether you should bring those Mallorcan handblown glass tumblers home—I hope you do! In my experience, it’s always worth the short-term hassle to surround yourself with pieces in your home that tell a story and bring back memories of “that one time when.”
Teresa
Would love to hear: What are your favorite treasures that you’ve brought home from abroad?
Officially joining team unpitted olives. I noticed while we were in Greece that no restaurant ever served pitted olives—and that’s because they are mushy, deflated versions of their best selves. In fact, one waiter told us, it would be sacrilegious to serve pitted olives, which lack the flavor and texture that olives are meant to have. Lesson learned: When given the option, go unpitted. And if you need them, some tips on eating unpitted olives without looking like a fool.
My current sunny-evening vino of choice: assyrtiko. After having a glass at nearly every meal in Greece, this crisp and minerally white—grown in the volcanic ash rich soil of Santorini—has made it into my regular home rotation. I’ve found this one from Santo to be widely available at local wine shops and on Drizly.
Here’s a little Greek island interior eye candy: take a peek at designer Jon Stefanidis’ bohemian Patmos home. If you’re planning a trip to the Greek islands this summer, consider adding Patmos to the list.
The best part of coming home after a long trip? Sleeping in our own glorious bed. OK, maybe the second best after seeing our dogs. If you like a soft pillow, our favorite down pillows pillows are currently 20% off. We have the medium, and they’re super cloud-like and fluffy—I pair them with firmer pillows.
Next newsletter needs to be about how you pack! Teach me! I overpack every single time 🤦🏼♀️🤦🏼♀️
I love olives! Thanks for linking the etiquette on eating olives with pits. I especially love blue cheese stuffed olives.