I will never travel internationally without a change of clothes in my carry-on again. About an hour into our flight from Detroit to Japan I managed to spill an entire cup of apple juice on my pants. All over my pants. Lovely. I was hoping the attendants would upgrade me to first class. No such luck. And now that I think about it, why would they want a twenty-something with a bad case of the dropies next to the aviating elite?
So...after much laughter and many napkins, I went to the bathroom, washed my pants in the sink, and emerged in a sarong fashioned out of a blue airplane blanket. I returned to my seat in my flimsy blue blanket and realized it was time for me to pump. Needless to say I was feeling a bit vulnerable.
My pants, by the way, were draped across the emergency exit lever on the door which I can't imagine is exactly legal.
Thankfully, they were dry by the time we reached Tokyo...that says something about how long the flight was--that a pair of soaking wet pants could entirely dry in the course of a flight.