32. My packing strategy for Japan

My fit-it-all-in math to look chic in Tokyo and comfortably hike in the Kyushu countryside

A hot spring in Beppu, Japan, where my trip begins. @istock

I love travel outfit ideas posted online (or in old-school fashion magazines) meant for fantasy trips. “Fall leaf-peeping weekend in Vermont with your sweetie!” “Beach week in Greece with your in-laws!”

But packing for a vacation often requires you to Jekyll-and-Hyde it, stocking a single suitcase for say, a Bozeman, Montana wedding followed by camping (and dodging bears) in Yellowstone National Park.

Today, I’m leaving for my first trip to Japan, and I’ve had to pack for a split-personality voyage. It starts with an inn-to-inn hiking tour in Kyushu with Walk Japan and then continues for four days of temple-hopping and pottery-shopping in Tokyo.

My split-personality suitcase pack in for a split-personality trip to Japan. Yes, that’s instant coffee in case some inns only serve tea.

While the weather won’t differ much between Kyushu (Japan’s southernmost island) and the buzzing city, I’ll need vastly different clothes for each leg of the trip. (If you’re OK with donning hiking boots and Patagonia fleece to tour a fashionable world capital, good for you! But that’s just not me.) I want to feel chic checking out art museums, boutiques, and temples in Tokyo.

Here’s how I got what I needed for 12 days into one midsized suitcase, with room left over for a few souvenirs. I do often just carry on, even for international voyages, but this didn’t seem like that sort of trip. I won’t be schlepping my bag much on trains or subways, and Walk Japan ferries travelers’ stuff from hotel to hotel.

Here’s what’s in my bag, and packing strategies that might help you.

What I packed for hiking in the Japanese countryside

The hiking on this trip—through rural parts of the Oita and Kumamto prefectures—will be anywhere from two to four miles a day, and the weather should be in the 70s. So I’m going light on hiking clothes—two pairs of pants, two shirts—figuring I can re-wear each outfit once without smelling like a forest demon.

Two wicking material hiking outfits, a sunhat, and a Lululemon hoodie cute enough for Tokyo later.

I’ll wear my Merrell hiking shoes on the plane since they’re heavy, knowing Air Nippon will give me slippers the millisecond I slide into my seat. One hoodie and a hybrid rain coat/shell go in the suitcase for chilly mornings or rainy days. (My raincoat is a five-year-old Jane Post silver slicker equally suited for forest or city. (Here it is on Poshmark or ThredUp; here’s a new alt).

Each night, we’ll stay in ryokans (traditional inns) with onsens (hot spring baths). The dress code for soaks is naked, but I brought a bathing suit just in case. Ryokans are known for traditional cuisine (ramen, fish, veggies) as well as supplying guests with cotton kimonos (yukatas) to wear to meals or for lounging around the inn.

I will also be borrowing from my Tokyo capsule wardrobe below some days, since we’ll have free time in charming towns such as Yufuin and Kurokawa.

What I packed for Tokyo

I haven’t been to Tokyo before, and I’ll be there solo for four days at the end of my trip. I have short, guided tours of city highlights and a yakitori food walk one night. The rest of my time is blissfully free to wander—maybe to the Japanese Folk Crafts Museum or Kappabashi, a neighborhood with hundreds of kitchenware shops.

Five tops, four pants, are all part of my packing math for Japan. Those are Donni’s hip red ribbed kick flair pants.

I have one nice dinner planned, but otherwise the agenda is museum going, sushi eating, temple hopping, and boutique shopping (maybe Cat Street in Harajuku or boho, riverside Nakameguro). On the shopping docket: flagships for Japanese brands I love (Onitsuka Tiger for sneakers, Sacai for structural clothing) plus some of Tokyo’s legendary department stores (Isetan, Japanese-fashion-mad Matsuya Ginza).

My wardrobe math for a two-week trip like this is dead simple. I keep to a pretty tight palette—black, white, and red—and go for mostly knits that won’t wrinkle. And I throw in a few surprises*, being sure they match with at least three other items I’ve packed. Here’s the math:

· Five bottoms (pants and versatile skirts). This includes two pairs of Donni’s brilliant ribbed knit kick flairs (black, red) which are basically yoga pants impersonating as chic, tailored trousers.

· Eight tops (mostly knits and a few button-downs)

· Two cardigans (one black, one lavender blue from the good-again Gap!)

· Two dresses

· Two pairs of shoes I can walk 10,000 steps in (silver Birkenstock Gizehs, vintage red Puma trainers). IMHO Gizehs are the only flattering Birks; the thong divides your foot, making it look thin and elegantly ladylike.

Skirts and dresses I packed for Japan. The red dress is by Rus and from No. 6 Store.

The surprises in my packing equation: a shapely purple skirt by D.C. designer Kim Schalk (similar here) and a kaftan-ish dress by Danish brand DAY Birger and Michelson. (I bought the latter at a duty-free shop onboard an Oslo to Copenhagen ferry last summer while looped on anti-seasick meds. I really can shop anywhere.)

This and undergarments all fit into four packing cubes and a midsized suitcase, leaving space both a bit of extra space and room for a Paravel fold down duffle in case of souvenir-buying, um, emergencies.

I’ll let you know how it works out, and I’ll post in Notes and on Instagram from the road. Leave any Japan and Tokyo recs in the comments, please!

Please like, share, or comment on this post—it helps me to reach more readers. And please subscribe if you like my stories!