When I think back to my school days, what comes to mind first isn’t just the classrooms, the endless notes, or the late-night study sessions, but the little things that carried me through them. For me, one of those things was my eastpak fanny pack. It might sound like just an accessory, but in reality, it became something like a silent friend that never left my side.
I remember my very first day of high school, nerves bubbling up in my chest as I walked into the crowded hallways. My fanny pack sat comfortably against me, holding the essentials—my student ID, a bus card, some loose change, and even the tiny notebook I used for doodles during boring lectures. While everyone else seemed overwhelmed, I felt grounded by having this one item that kept me organized in the chaos.
The more time passed, the more it became woven into my daily life. During free periods, my friends and I would sprawl out on the campus grass, swapping snacks, sharing music, and laughing about teachers’ quirks. My fanny pack was always the one thing they borrowed from—whether it was tissues after a teary rant, a pen before a test, or even gum before a presentation. It wasn’t flashy, but it was reliable, and it started to feel like a piece of my identity.
There was one day in particular that sealed its place in my memory. We were on a school trip to the city museum, and I was in charge of carrying the group’s tickets. The thought of losing them terrified me, but tucked safely into the zippered pocket, they stayed secure the whole time. It was such a small detail, but in that moment, my fanny pack turned from a casual accessory into something I truly trusted. It gave me this odd sense of responsibility—like if I could keep tickets safe, maybe I could handle bigger things too.
As I grew older, the relationship shifted, but the pack stayed with me. On weekends, I’d use it for quick coffee runs or biking to the park. During exams, it carried my lucky pen and flashcards. On graduation day, it was still there, strapped to me like a quiet reminder of all the moments it had witnessed. My friends often joked that I’d never be seen without it, and honestly, they weren’t wrong.
What I love most is how it didn’t just serve a practical role but also mirrored the simplicity of my style. I’ve always preferred things that are understated but dependable, and that’s exactly what it was. It didn’t scream for attention, yet it held a kind of cool that matched perfectly with sneakers, jeans, and hoodies. Over time, it became part of my look without me even realizing it.
Even now, whenever I stumble across it in my closet, I can’t help but smile. It’s not just fabric and zippers—it’s countless bus rides, whispered conversations in hallways, late-night pizza runs, and the comfort of knowing I had a safe spot for all my little essentials. Some people keep journals to remember their school years. For me, it’s the fanny pack that tells those stories.