When Traveling It Helps to Dress for the Part : Tips on easy-to-pack clothing that can make trips more enjoyable.

I received a postcard not long ago from my red nylon snow pants, the ones I bought from L.L. Bean in 1987 when heading for Antarctica. They were down there again--this time at Palmer Station--along with my Icelandic wool cap, snuggly balaclava and red and blue Gore-Tex mittens.

The chaperon for my Antarctic wardrobe was a friend who’s much shorter than I. While my rubber boots and parka would not fit, the pull-on trousers proved flexible.

I was glad they could make the trip; they were not inexpensive and, being a Scot by heritage and heart, I like to get lots of miles for my money.

At the same time that my cold-weather gear was heading toward the South Pole, some cruise wardrobe favorites were in my sister’s suitcase, sailing for the Panama Canal. It seemed silly for her to buy a sparkly evening sweater that she might not often wear. She also had little use in real life for a beribboned cotton Mexican dress, and I had one eager to travel.

There are some easy-to-pack items that seem indispensable to me for various destinations, climates and modes of travel. I’ll share the tips, if not the actual clothes:

--For cold-weather journeys, I count on lightweight wool gloves; for colder weather, gloves of fleece-lined leather. For Antarctica, I wore waterproof mittens over woolen gloves, although on many sunny days I ended up clipping the bulky mittens to my parka. Waterproof, windproof nylon pants--to wear over wool pants and long underwear--are vital in the Arctic or Antarctic when you’re bouncing from ship to shore in an open, rubber landing craft. Calf-high rubber boots also keep you dry. Leather boots with lug soles are not practical in Antarctica. After spending a day walking through penguin colonies, you’ll want to hose off your boots.

--For cold and windy cities, few garments are as versatile as a muffler--whether it’s a plaid Burberry cashmere from an airport duty-free shop or a six-foot-long lamb’s-wool model from a sale at The Gap. My mufflers have scaled the Highlands and gone on to ward off drafts in London theaters.

--For warm weather, cotton wins. If there’s a bit of a breeze, loose, long-sleeved shirts can seem cooler than short sleeves. Also better protection against a ferocious sun. I find billowy skirts cooler than pants in equatorial zones, although tropic-weight khaki trousers were born for brush. Wearing shorts--even Bermudas--may mean getting left outside some of the world’s sacred and royal sights.

A not-too-attractive truth is that feet swell in hot weather. Touring the palaces of Bangkok or the shrines of Jogjakarta is more comfortable in shoes of canvas than leather--which you can save for what passes for the cool of the evening. Wearing slip-on shoes in Buddhist and Muslim lands will save time at the entrances to temples and mosques: no stooping to tie and untie laces.

A brimmed cotton or straw hat--one that stays on in a breeze--helps you keep a cool head. Bringing a hat from home beats waiting until you’re in a native market where choices may be ill-fitting, or more suitable for a costume party. Last year I bought a stiff green and yellow thatch hat at a floating market in Thailand.

“It’s practical,” the lovely girl told me as she swept up my coins. “See, it folds into a bell shape to pack flat.”

Folded is its handsomest state; I have not worn it since.

--For cruising--and almost any trip that may mean morning walks or afternoon naps--I take comfort in a sweat shirt and warm-up pants. For most people, packing a swimsuit from home is smarter than counting on finding an acceptable cut at a foreign boutique.

--For long airplane flights, I like elastic waistbands--or none at all. I like roomy pullover sweaters. I like a jacket with inside pockets that snap shut, so that my glasses don’t end up stuffed in the seat-back pocket or crushed on the floor.

--For hiking, I like a vest with plenty of pockets so that I can carry a lot. Kleenex, a packet of raisins or trail mix, a Swiss army knife with tweezers, a small bottle of water, sun block, camera, film, pen and notebook. My favorite new acquisition is from Banana Republic: a Traveler’s Vest. It is sturdy, lightweight cotton with a dozen pockets of varying sizes, all secured by zippers or Velcro. A hood is rolled into the collar.

The garment that tops it for movable parts is called the Photographer’s Vest--also from Banana Republic--which has epaulets to hold camera straps; a mesh back for ventilation; an armory of snaps, zippers, D-rings, key rings and Velcro, and film pockets, lens pockets, pen pockets, flashlight pockets, map pockets, passport pockets and two deep inside pockets on which are sketches of the vest’s panels--describing what goes where.

Serious photographers swear by it, but I don’t want a jacket that is more organized than I am.