Think about it for a moment. Primitive man didn’t pack. Once he had found and killed his target, he ate the insides and wore the hide. A wardrobe was whatever happened to be within range of a stone ax and a spear. The only endangered species were human beings, and matters didn’t change significantly for millennia. Hunters and gatherers continued to travel with remarkably little baggage, remaining in the same climate zone for a lifetime. Without transportation, where could they go?
Even at the pinnacle of ancient civilization, people tended to stay put, enjoying the glory that was Greece and the grandeur that was Rome. The notion that other societies might offer interesting opportunities for diversion didn’t occur to them. The average lifespan was about 35 years, leaving little time for holidays. There were no retirees, because work as we know it hadn’t yet been invented. Without work, there’s no need for vacations.
The entire concept of picking and choosing among one’s belongings to decide which are appropriate for foreign parts is a relatively modern idea. Greek statues tend to be naked or loosely draped, and a citizen of Rome was well turned out for any occasion in his toga; informal enough for an orgy but entirely proper for the Senate. Trousers, skirts, coats and jackets wouldn’t be designed for another century or two. When the Visi, Ostro and less famous Goths sacked Rome, they didn’t pack for the war either, unless we call a bludgeon and a sword packing. Savage as they were, the vandals know they could get everything they needed once they arrived at their destination. After all, that’s why they wanted to conquer it. The entire concept of picking and choosing among one’s belongings to decide which are appropriate for foreign parts couldn’t happen before most people could get there.
By the medieval era, people had clothes of one sort or another, but armor doesn’t fold, and luggage was generally confined to what would fit into saddle bags. The crusaders had to use space in those for food. Riding horseback in chain mail underwear and full metal jacket restricted them to the bare essentials. Medieval weaving was done at home, and sold at festivals. Factories didn’t take over until the Industrial revolution. Before that, spinning wheels and hand looms produced just about everything.
The Renaissance didn’t change much, despite the influence of the arts. Painters, sculptors and architects left their country villages for the cities. Once in Rome or Florence to pick up commissions for bronze doors, mosaics and altar pieces, they soon replaced their leather jerkins with velvet doublets. A few centuries would pass before any one thought of putting handles on carved chests and calling them trunks. The notion of packing stalled until the early 19th century, when the invention of the steam engine abruptly revolutionized the status quo. Until then, clothing stayed home.
From that point on, unprecedented numbers of people began going from one place to another by boat and train, methods that provided room for amounts of luggage impossible in the age of sailing ships and stagecoaches. Suddenly there were whole new categories of possessions for whole new categories of people. Within a few decades, even ordinary folks owned more than the clothes on their backs and a change for Sundays. For the first time in history, people began traveling for pleasure. Until that moment, travelers were explorers, warriors, or the starving, none of whom had much in the way of movable goods. Here in America, emigrants used covered wagons, which held their belongings. You see their heirs today, tooling around in RVs, actually living in their luggage.
By the late 19th century, the world had entered the golden age of packing; a short, blissful period that would end irrevocably when the airplane supplanted the ship and train, putting everyone back to square one. Without dwelling sadly upon the differences, just read about the steamer trunk. Though a few have been reincarnated as occasional tables, most millennials will never see one open and in use; one side fitted out with a dozen hangars and a shoe rack; the other side neatly divided for gloves, hosiery, shirts, and what the English politely call “small clothes”. Of all the wonderful Victorian inventions, nothing but indoor plumbing was so welcomed by the privileged on grand tours.
That Golden Age didn’t last for long. To all intents, ‘carry-on” is an oxymoron. For a few months in the 1970’s, suitcases were made of a metallic substance guaranteed not to dent no matter how brutally treated. An elephant could dance on your luggage without hurting it, but the material was so unforgiving the owner couldn’t add a pair of sunglasses or a rain hat. That fad didn’t last long. Now, in the age of terrorism, people board their planes dressed to strip instantly. We’re back to the glory that was Greece and the grandeur that was Rome, with our homegrown Nero Claudius Caesar and a horde of betrayers playing Brutus.