How I pack for the lower 48

I stand and stare into my closet. I realize I have nothing that can actually be worn in civilization without drawing comments from those who do not know the definition of Alaska chic.  I have no idea what the weather will be like. So I reach out and grab everything there and stuff it into a suitcase in the vain hope that once I reach the East Coast, some piece of what I’ve brought with me will actually be acceptable.  It never is. But hope springs eternal.