It is 5:30 am here in the UK and I cannot sleep in painful anticipation of planning to travel to a million countries so I think it is time for my awkward travel tip of the day.
Do not change in front of a hostel of people eating their breakfast even if you are wearing 4 pairs of tights at the time.
Here is a Picture of me at Disneyland Paris. I urge you to note 2 key important things here.
A. I am not wearing a skirt.
B. I am not wearing Kakhi pants.
There are two important reasons I wore this pair of jeans my entire trip.
A. It is freaking freezing in Paris during the month of January.
B. I split my pants.
Just imagine this. It is 5 am in the morning, I am from Southern California, and I think, “I would like to be cute today because hell, I am in France.” So I slip on my cute black stripey skirt and 4 layers of shirts alongside my comfy sweater thinking that 4 pairs of opaque wooly tights would do the trick in the warmness situation. Again I reiterate… I am from Southern California where it does not get colder than 50 let alone rain or have any wind chill of any sort. I walk outside thinking, “Heyyyy its not so bad” and get in the car to drive and check in at my hotel for D-land Paris.
My boyfriend and I arrive park in front of our hotel and I step outside and immediately die. Surely every animal outside must be dead, no living thing could survive this winter chill. It feels at least 10 degrees colder than the main city and I start to backtrack on the idea of looking skirt cute. I begin to ponder the idea of looking like indiana jones with my khaki zara pants and boots instead. That would be much warmer. I look around, our hotel has an entire glass eating area and there are some people eating inside but they don’t really seem to be paying attention to anything but their food and I am wearing 4 pairs of tights. 4 pairs of tights = pants and not an undergarment in my mind. I figure no one will notice if I slip some pants on underneath my skirt. The change is seemingly foolproof. I rustle around my bag and get my pants on and button up. It feels fine I’m not worried. Why the hell would I be worried? I am also finally warm in my khaki pants because everyone knows jeans really aren’t the worlds best warmth insulators. I happily jaunt over to the passenger seat of the car and sit down and instantly hear a painful gut-wrenching tear. I look down and can see a 7 inch gaping split in my lovely pants. I look around and see the entire hostel staring at me and my boyfriend is dying cracking up at the little show I have put on. I sadly take my pant of shame and ask him to retrieve my jeans. 4 pairs of tights also equals 2 sizes larger Lindsey.
I put my jeans on with a look of defeat on my face until we reach Disney.
You win this time pants… you win this time.