Backpacker Chic

My mom harrassed, err asked me, "Why are you backpacking? Don't you make enough money to stay in a hotel?" Of course, I don't make enough money (but that is an entirely separate blog)...

Backpacking is a metaphor, it represents a different way to travel.
The Marriot Madrid is pretty much the same as the Marriot Milwaukee, the Chilis on the Champs Eylsees still serves hot wings and Euro Disneyland is just as creepy as the real one.
Backpacking means staying at a guest house in a dorm style room, forcing you to share space with the goofy Aussie. It means taking a local bus and sitting next to a goat. It means praying and pointing to that thing on the menu, is actually chicken...
So we are backpacking, not because we can't afford a real trip, but because backpacking IS a real trip.

Since we're no longer 19 years old and trying to figure out a new major for university... we will not be wearing a Che t-shirt, hemp pajama pants, birkenstocks and playing hackie sack.
We also choose to shy away from the "I blew 100s of bucks at REI, trying way to hard to look travelled" look.

Our style is going to say old world and sophisticated... start with good boots, heavy pants, lots of layers, button down shirts, sweaters and a thick pea coat.
We want to rock a party in London, as well as a tent at the Bahariyya Oasis.

Yes, I fully appreciate that this next section represents not a gentle pat, but a bear hug of an embrace of my metrosexuality...
A little taste of Heather's look...

A little taste of Riad, I am going for Indiana Jones just leaving the library...

And of course, the boot used by the French Foreign Legion, galvinzed rubber soles, canvas upper, molded for comfort, durability and style...

And lastly, I don't think I need to describe these, other than to say, where can't these be worn?