Alright, so I got completely hooked on “Emily in Paris.” Don’t judge. And you know what really got me? The suitcases. Not just hers, but that whole dreamy, chic travel aesthetic. I just had to try it.
So, I told myself, next trip, I’m going full Emily. First things first, I needed the right suitcase. And let me tell you, that was an adventure in itself. I was glued to my screen for what felt like weeks, scrolling through countless websites. Everything I found was either so expensive it’d cost me an arm and a leg, or it just looked, well, kinda flimsy. Not the vibe I was going for, you know?
I even dragged myself to a few antique shops and flea markets. Really thought I’d uncover some forgotten treasure. Found some neat old trunks, sure, but nothing that screamed “chic American girl arrives in Paris.” Most of it just looked like it belonged in an attic, gathering dust.
Then, actually getting the thing and packing it…
I finally settled on one. Wasn’t a perfect match, not one of those super fancy brands, but it had a nice vintage-y shape and the color was pretty close. Good enough, I figured. Or maybe I was just tired of looking.
Then came packing. Oh, what a laugh. I pulled out every piece of clothing I owned that vaguely screamed “Parisian.” You know the drill – striped tops, a couple of silk scarves, even a beret I bought on a whim years ago and never had the guts to wear. I tried to fold everything all neat and tidy, just like you see in those influencer videos. Emily’s suitcase in the show seems to be a bottomless pit. Mine? Definitely not.
- I tried rolling every item.
- Then I tried folding them flat.
- I even bought some of those packing cube things everyone raves about.
It was like a frustrating game of wardrobe Tetris. I seriously tried to cram in about five different hats. Why? No idea. Just felt like something Emily would do. The shoes were another story. So many cute pairs, so little space. And let’s not even talk about the skincare bottles.
The grand voyage… or not quite.
Okay, full disclosure, I didn’t jet off to Paris with it straight away. This was more of a dry run for a weekend trip to visit my sister. Probably a good thing, looking back.
The suitcase definitely looked the part, I’ll give it that. I even got a few “ooh, where’d you get that?” comments. But actually lugging it around? Not so glamorous. It was way heavier than my usual trusty roller bag. And those adorable heels I insisted on packing? They got a bit mangled, to be honest. I spent more time worrying about scuffing the darn suitcase than enjoying myself. It felt less “stylish adventurer” and more “anxious baggage handler.”
So, what’s the takeaway from my whole “Emily in Paris suitcase” saga? It’s fun to play pretend, for sure. And trying to inject a bit of that on-screen magic into real life can be a laugh. But the truth is, real-life travel needs stuff that actually works without giving you a hernia. Give me good wheels and a bag that can take a beating any day.
I still think the suitcase is pretty. It’s now my “special occasion” luggage. But for my regular trips? I think practicality is going to edge out pure aesthetics from now on. Or, you know, I’ll just learn to pack fewer hats. Maybe.
