Much has been written about the fanny pack. Most of it is bad.
What began as a utilitarian fashion craze of the early 90s (shut up, you know you had one) has now been strictly relegated to the arena of unabashed tourist. Worse than Tevas, worse than zip-off pants, worse than wielding a guidebook or clutching a map or asking for directions loudly in English, the fanny pack is the ultimate signifier of clueless tourist. Just ask the people who write this blog.
But on my last trip in Austin, my good friend and travel buddy Liz presented a most compelling argument in favor of the fanny pack: