Itan's Unfortunate Day

Dear Journal,

University is a place of education, and there are certain things I’ve learned outside of the normal curriculum. Living here after three years on my own hasn’t been easy, and probably one of my greatest mistakes was taking my old clothes with me. Some don’t even fit me anymore but I think today was when I realized that and learned the lesson the hard way.

It all started with my laundry that was piling on my couch for days now. Given the trek over to the launderette, which was in the back area of the apartment complex and the fact you always need to have an exact amount of change in your pocket, sometimes it’s necessary to wear something you don’t really want to. I intended to change clothes while I was on campus, which would require me to wear the same jeans two days running, as they were the only remotely clean thing I had left. Unfortunately, that night I spilt my soda float all over them, which left me with only one option, a pair of black jeans which had become snug in my first year being here.

When it came to my underwear as well, I was down to my old ones that I hadn’t worn since high school. They were rainbow striped colored horizontally, well they used to be in brighter color but were now faded and stretched thinly. Even the tiny bow on the waistband seemed to strain from the stretch. Anyways, so I set about getting these clothes on and thought nothing of it. It was a bit of a struggle getting them on but everything seemed just fine. Problem mostly was the pants because every time I got the button done up and try to get to the zipper, the button would force itself open again. It took me four times until I finally managed. The only top I had left was just as difficult. It was a light blue blouse which pulled in, I’m sure, very attractive direction. It gaped between the buttons, and I had to sew an extra button over my breasts to stop from everyone seeing my plain black bra. I promised myself that I would spend as little time as possible on campus, get some change, back to the apartment, do laundry, and get clean clothes on.

After leaving the apartment I made my way towards the campus which was only about 6 blocks away. As I walked I could feel the air flowing into my blouse from the gaps between the buttons and the tight jeans like a second skin on me. I only had one class to go to that day and a brief stop at the library. It was only just theater classes so I made my way towards the back row of the auditorium. As I climbed the steps up the rows I could feel my jeans tightening, so I gave up halfway up and slid into a row. Besides I was already away from the other students, but as I sat down I felt some of the stitches pop between my legs. Just a few, I could cover them by keeping my legs closed. I spent the entire time in class being rigid, not daring to move at all. By the time it was over, I had cramp and longed to stretch, but I knew it was be a bad idea. Though I was so tired at this point that my mind went blank and I tried to stretch just a little. There was another pop but this time it was my blouse, part of the seam under my arm was gone. As I swung my back onto my shoulder it opened up even more. At this point I wished I had a jacket but living in warm climate didn’t permit me to wear it. As I left the theatre, I felt my legs rubbing together. Not my jeans, but my legs. The seams that were going down the inside of my thighs, about a third of the way to my knees, seemed to have frayed even more and were starting to open up so I hurried to the library.

Again I didn’t use my head and I didn’t notice my bag getting caught on a tall rose bush and swung about. My arms went out, one round the bag and the other to break my fall. I felt my blouse loosen somewhat and when I got myself in control I realized I lost two buttons. I reached to close the gaps but caused a seam to rip open on my sleeve right sleeve. I managed to stop my fall and took stock of the damage. The entire middle part of my blouse was gaping so much that my bra could be seen by anyone. I held my bag over my chest and walked quicker, realizing as I did that the legs on the jeans had opened till about halfway down my inner thighs. I entered the library, and headed for the section I wanted. It would be just my luck, I thought, if the book I wanted was up a ladder… Fortunately, it wasn’t, or so I thought. It was on the bottom shelf.

I knew that bending straight from the waist was a bad idea, likewise squatting down. I decided to try and bend one knee, reach down with one hand, brace myself with the other, and keep my waist straight. I began this rather strange maneuver, lowering myself steadily. Suddenly I heard a rip, which was the leg of the jeans opening up more towards my knee, and in shock I fell over. The sudden fall caused the bottom buttons on my blouse to give up, so all that was left was the two top buttons. Now I was stuck on the ground. Exactly how I could get up again I had no idea. The only thing I knew was that I couldn’t stay on the floor, and with my blouse already falling apart, things couldn’t really get worse, could they? I grabbed the shelf with one hand, gave it an experimental tug to make sure I wasn’t about to bring all the books crashing down on me. I pulled myself up, trying to get my feet level.

A sudden loud squeak could be heard coming from my shoe as it skidded on the polished floor and I knew what was coming next. My feet went in opposite directions and a loud rip echoed through the library, well at least the floor I was on anyway. The entire seam opened up, from the zipper at the front towards the last couple of stitches of the waistband. My old, faded panties were on display through the tear. “Oh shit,” I shouted before realizing that this unexpected shout had caused almost everyone to turn and look at me. Embarrassed enough as I was, I knew I had to get out of here. I didn’t care about the book anymore as I set my feet more firmly, and stood up, knowing that as my jeans were about to give up, there was nothing that could stop me from running out of here. As I ran, the last bit of thread on my waistband finally gave out, but this wasn’t the end of it. The button opened up and the zipper forced itself down, catching one bit of thread of my panties in it’s teeth. As my pants fell apart and fell, my panties ripped easily due to the weight of the pants. Everything was happening so quick that by the time I slammed open the exit door of the library, my bra decided to give up as well. My bust size was a C and the bra I was wearing was a B size and with so many bouncing around, the straps on my bra just snapped along with the clasp on my back. My breasts were exposed to everyone as I flung open the door. Just as quick I grabbed what was left of my pants and tried holding it against myself, including the shredded blouse to cover myself.

One thing that was on my mind, or should I say, still is, being the laughing stock of the university. I only hoped that no one had taken pictures of me. I managed to get to my apartment with just bits of cloth that used to be my clothes. The problem wasn’t the end because I still hadn’t got any change for the launderette and the only clothes I still had were even tighter ones. Tomorrow will only get worse.