HomeOutdoorGear I Maintain Pricey: My Silk Pillowcase 

Gear I Maintain Pricey: My Silk Pillowcase 


For one in every of my first backpacking journeys 20 years in the past, I laid out all of the gear in my bed room—sleeping pad, sleeping bag, camp range and different necessities. My objective was to maintain the load gentle. At one level, I even thought of sawing off my toothbrush deal with to avoid wasting a fraction of an oz. Then I grabbed one thing not discovered on most backpacking checklists: a lustrous silk pillowcase.  

The merchandise contributed unneeded weight and served the singular function of offering consolation, which is at odds with the ultralight tenet that each piece of substances performs a number of capabilities. My pillowcase wouldn’t survive a pack shakedown imposed by the Mild and Quick Committee. 

I laughed at myself and thought of tossing it to the aspect. The hand-sewn silk case weighs simply 2.5 ounces, about the identical weight and measurement as my camp pillow. I sleep with my luxurious companion most nights when not tenting. Nonetheless, I couldn’t make sense of the pull to convey it on a visit the place I’d be “roughing it”: Why did I need this pointless merchandise to make the ultimate pack minimize?  

My love for my pillowcase is layered. The silk fiber is much less porous than widespread linen or cotton pillow covers and doesn’t draw pure moisture away from my hair and pores and skin. These qualities promote hydrated, wholesome locks. Moreover, my mom sewed this pillowcase; my closet has held a stack of comparable ones in several colours and sizes, made by her and my grandmother over time. We’ve all slept on silk pillowcases for so long as I can keep in mind as a result of they maintain our hair hydrated and stop breakage—when hair turns into so brittle it can’t keep size. This one was smaller, good for overlaying an ultralight pillow. The pillowcase’s maroon colour was fading after years of use, however that reality added to its permanence for me. 

However the pillowcase can be an artifact that symbolizes household and neighborhood. It connects my disparate experiences in nature in a means that creates a private throughline.

My dad and mom grew up within the Forties and ‘50s in rural Jamaica. They stuffed their days climbing fruit timber, taking part in cricket, trapping lizards, caring for crops and animals and usually making mischief and mayhem with siblings and pals. These experiences cultivated a love of nature that stayed with them after they immigrated to New York and raised a household.  “We have been at all times exterior,” my mom says when requested about her childhood. “The one factor to do inside was chores.” 

It’s innate to my dad and mom to know what surrounds them. As Jamaicans, they grew up extra linked to the land than many people in the US who’re formed by the mindset of a rich colonial nation; my dad and mom, their dad and mom and previous generations relied on land for each survival and recreation and wanted to reside in concord with it, somewhat than in search of solely to extract from it. As soon as they turned New Yorkers, my mother and pa took the time to study concerning the vegetation endemic to their new house.  

On the flip aspect, when my dad and mom first moved to the U.S., they knew nothing about backpacking or different out of doors actions which have come to outline the American “outdoorsy” paradigm. They didn’t perceive the drive by so many to spend $1,000 on tenting gear simply to sleep exterior—one in every of many behaviors that I’ll admit to adopting after I first began backpacking. I realized to know and admire my pure environment from my dad and mom, however I additionally realized the American model of the outside from the establishments I grew up inside: church, faculty and summer time camp. This model of recreation taught me to optimize my packing to maneuver effectively and shortly on the path, as a result of it elevated bodily achievements above different goals. And since my comparatively extravagant silk pillowcase didn’t match this framework, I hesitated to see it as belonging amongst my different gear necessities, like my sleeping bag or range. 

A baby of immigrants travels many miles to kind her id, generally drawing consolation from her heritage and different occasions wrestling with it or eschewing it to evolve to new social pressures. There’s a really sensible have to survive in new socioeconomic terrain, with the kids typically having to study classes that oldsters don’t have the information to show.  

As an grownup, I gravitated towards climbing and backpacking tradition, with a bunch of fancy camping-specific gear strapped to my again and with out sentimental gadgets like my silk pillowcase. I sought whole immersion exterior, and was drawn to the vistas of the New Hampshire White Mountains, simply two hours from my new house in Boston. The odor of balsam fir and maple bark and the satisfaction of motion propelled me. At occasions it was troublesome to keep up my sense of self and my roots, sown by my ancestors and cultivated by my dad and mom and family members, whereas current throughout the largely white climbing neighborhood. I skilled outright racism every now and then, however extra typically, I discovered that the folks round me typically wished me to assimilate into white cultural norms and have become uncomfortable after I asserted my variations.     

Folks from marginalized identities, together with racialized identities, typically endure when their norms and values are unintentionally disregarded by the dominant tradition—resulting in a lack of one’s personal id, a lack of satisfaction in a single’s background and heritage; it may possibly even manifest in self-hatred.  

A Black pal summed it up as soon as in a means that resonated with me. She was new to tenting, and I invited her on a tenting journey with pals. I watched her eyes and physique language as she mulled over the thought of spending the weekend, her transient break from the weekly grind, as one in every of solely two Black folks within the group.  “You recognize what,” she informed me. “I simply don’t need to have to clarify what I’m doing with my hair.” She would possibly twist it, pile it on her head and wrap it with a material. In a single sense, not an enormous deal. However her assertion was a metaphor. She was uninterested in explaining herself to white folks. She was uninterested in being evaluated, scrutinized, and fielding questions. It’s not that the eye could be innately dangerous. In actual fact, it will probably be coming from a spot of real curiosity and goodwill. However that was inappropriate. She was simply drained and wished to go unnoticed. To mix in and never need to replicate on what makes her totally different throughout the group of campers.   

As I packed for my weekend journey all these years in the past, I eyed the silk pillowcase amongst my different gear, debating whether or not to convey it alongside. My mother and grandma have sewn these for me, for members of the family and pals for so long as I can keep in mind. My grandpa was a grasp tailor. Each he and my grandmother have been robust and avid seamsters. And the silk pillowcase jogged my memory of their legacy. 

Lastly, I grabbed it and stuffed it deep within the pack, far sufficient down that I couldn’t simply pull it out once more. Since that journey, it’s come on most of my backcountry journeys from Wyoming to Alberta to Peru. 

On that backpacking journey, and on so many others, I laid my joyfully wooly, nappy head—my literal roots—down on my silken pillow after a protracted day of being exterior. I assumed concerning the loving ability of my mother and grandma’s fingers. That love pulsed by means of me as I drifted off, melding with the sounds of wildlife and wind in timber. Each night time underneath the celebs, the heartbeat regulates my heartbeat to the rhythm of the breath of the earth under me, lulling me to sleep.