Nobody cares what you wear when you’re in the boonies!

I have never been a fashionista. I’m sure my friends would tell you I barely hang on by a thread (pun intended) to what is fashionably appropriate depending on the event. I do love attending themed events where they tell me exactly what to wear. It is so much easier!

Living in an RV full-time brings about a greater constraint on my already limited dress sense. Boondocking takes it even further. As RVers, even if it is just for a weekend, wardrobe options are limited in comparison to your brick-and-mortar storage space. The smaller the space, the more people in the RV, the fewer packing choices you have.

If you full-time, you are probably carrying every season of clothing with you because you have nowhere else to leave it. We have become very eco-friendly. We are not buying expensive leathers and furs from around the country because we have learned to layer.  Each season’s contribution to our wardrobe has to cater to at least 1-2 other seasons or the article of clothing must be abandoned.

Enter boondocking attire. I thought I had reached the pinnacle of slim and extremely brilliant clothing choices for small spaces and seasons. I have 50 hangers in my closet and that is my wardrobe selection—unless…I can roll it up very tiny and fit it into a drawer.

And then boondocking comes along.

Boondocking attire

If you haven’t been boondocking you should give it a try. It is as close as some of us will ever come to living like a pioneer. My extravagant outerwear on hangers goes mostly unused. Now I enter water conservation mode. You don’t want to fill up your gray tanks or you will be pulling up anchor and sailing into the nearest town. And you don’t want to make a trip into town, that is extra fuel and time. All of a sudden, that flannel shirt becomes your suit jacket for the chilly mornings, jeans are carefully folded and set aside for another day of wear and tear.

I haven’t even addressed the accessories. By accessories I just mean hats and shoes, maybe a belt, but sweatpants work too. Hats reduce the number of shampoos, slippers can keep your feet warm without using the last pair of socks. I’m sorry though—I draw the line with underclothes! Those go on clean every day.

One day I walked outside and the sun was shining. I spread my arms and took in a deep breath. I looked down and thought, “Oh my God, what am I wearing?!” Starting from the feet: I wore black slippers with white ankle socks, and sweatpants that didn’t quite reach down to cover the white socks. As an accessory, I had a white flour handprint on my hip from making breakfast. I had on a black T-shirt with the Creature from the Black Lagoon in green printed across the front. Atop this awesome outfit was a blue and white flannel shirt.  On my head, a torn Harley Davidson baseball cap in gray. Nothing matched, nothing was sized right, and everything was a day or two used.

I started to run back in and change. But I slowly looked around and there was no one to judge. Instead, I stood there perfectly happy in what I now call my “Boondocking Attire.” You should try it. Maybe you have.

Don’t get me wrong. I still know how to fit into a social gathering. I still care about my attempt at ensembles. But if I think no one is looking, it’s Boondocking Attire all the way. There is nothing like saving the environment one outfit at a time and not offending a single person while doing it. Right?

##RVT1094