With twenty-five feet still to go, I discovered why the inventor of the paperclip, Walter Hunt, later built America’s first sewing machine: paperclips bend. My thu covered me in the same way that holding up a pair of jeans in front of a mirror covers you - it worked well enough, but not all angles were created equal.

While in the Pacific, I’d hoped to reduce the number of variables in my life to find out which were the most important – take away electricity and friends and see which I miss the most – but clothes were never supposed to be on the list. On my way down, I found myself fixating on the physicality of things: the handles on a woven basket, the sun reflecting off the dinghy’s small outboard engine, the scar on a woman’s ankle.