The most reliable companion in a suitcase: A touring actor and his portable steamer for clothes story
I'm Ryan, a stage actor on a national tour. From Boston to Seattle, from theaters to university auditoriums, my life is packed into a 26-inch suitcase. And beyond all the props, the script, the dance shoes and the throat pills, there’s one thing I never leave behind—my portable steamer for clothes.
It’s not because I have an obsession with cleanliness, but because it determines whether I can maintain that little bit of “dignity that belongs to the role” in front of the camera and under the spotlight.
The life on tour isn’t glamorous—it’s a constant cycle of early mornings, late shows, and cramped transit.
Most people think that an actor’s life is all glitter and lights, but the truth is, I often catch a train at six in the morning, run lines in a small-town dressing room that afternoon, and belt my lines out on a makeshift stage by night. The hotel sheets are crumpled, and there’s usually not even a halfway-decent iron in the room, let alone an ironing board.
And my performance costume—whether it’s a vintage wool coat or a fitted white shirt—loses the character’s energy the moment it gets wrinkled. Before one rehearsal, the director stared at my vest, which was as wrinkled as crumpled paper, and asked, “Are you planning to play a homeless person?”
Since then, I’ve always packed my portable steamer for clothes. Not because it’s fancy, but because it truly gets what it means to keep showing up—even when the setup is far from ideal.
Every time steam comes out, it’s like recalibrating the character’s state.
My steamer isn’t big—it fits in a corner of the suitcase. Every time I arrive at a new venue, the first thing I do before sorting costumes is plug it in and let it warm up. After 30 seconds, it starts to release a gentle stream of steam.
You can’t imagine the feeling when a wrinkled costume that looked like a rag starts transforming back into something stage-ready. It’s not just about smoothing fabric—it’s about restoring the mindset. After running the steamer down the last line of my trousers, I look in the mirror and see not the traveler Ryan, but the man I’m about to become tonight—the mad prince, the street poet, the silent father.
The three most typical usage scenarios—even beyond acting
Outside of costumes, I’ve realized this portable steamer for clothes has become part of my day-to-day survival kit:
1. “Self-rescue” in hotels
Most hotels in small towns don’t have irons—or the ones they do are in terrible shape. The steamer is my go-to tool to restore my appearance after late-night rehearsals. A shirt, a scarf, even the brim of a hat—once I steam it, no matter how exhausted I feel the next day, I won’t look it.
2. Makeshift “bathroom rescue” at train stations
Once, while transferring in Houston, I got a sudden call to shoot a short interview. I pulled out my steamer in a train station bathroom and completed an emergency wardrobe rescue by a socket near the sink. After the shoot, the director said, “You look like you just came out of a greenroom.” I laughed. “That’s because I actually changed in the bathroom.”
3. Ritual moments backstage
Before every rehearsal, I hang my costume on a metal rod backstage, sip hot water, and steam the collar and cuffs slowly. It’s quiet. Almost like a private conversation between me and the role.
Why I trust this kind of portable steamer
As performers, our worst fear is things falling apart on the spot. My portable steamer for clothes wipes that fear away. Especially the one I found through Nesugar:
Plug and play: 30-second preheat, no anxious waiting
Works across fabrics: silk, tweed, cotton, linen—it handles them all
Compact & lightweight: easy on the wrist, great for quick jobs
No leaks, no burns: safe, even in cramped greenrooms
No bulky base: still fits in a suitcase full of wigs
This isn’t a promo line. It’s a list of tools I’ve come to rely on after a year of life on the road.
Sometimes, looking “put together” isn’t for others.
I read scripts and edit lines in vans. I change outfits in airport bathrooms. I close my eyes and mentally prepare for a scene on a noisy bus. This isn’t a glamorous life—but the portable steamer helps me hang onto a sense of dignity.
A younger actor once asked, “You’re tired every day, but you still press your shirts. Are you trying to look more professional?” I told him, “No, it’s just how I know I’m ready when I step on stage.”
Preparation doesn’t have to be some grand production. Sometimes it’s just a pressed shirt or a wrinkle-free coat that says, “I care.”
Conclusion: This portable steamer isn’t just a tool—it’s part of my rhythm.
Maybe you’re not an actor. Maybe you’re a teacher, a barista, or a parent managing kids at home. If your world sometimes feels like it’s slipping into chaos, start with something small. Like steaming a shirt. Creating just a sliver of space. A tiny ritual.
A portable steamer for clothes won’t make your life glamorous. But it might help you keep your composure in the middle of it all.
Mine, the one I got from Nesugar, is still tucked into the corner of my suitcase—ready to roll to the next city.
