Hear “socks” and you might have a dim memory of the “first cat,” the Clintons’ pet at the White House. Maybe though, the humble foot covers spring to mind. I don’t have much of an opinion about the cat, but I love the foot covers.
You might think that they are pedestrian, but they can be oh so much more.
As a pre-teen, I was dancing up and down in my socks to get out of them and into, as it was then termed, “hosiery.” Turned out to be a case of be-careful-what-you-wish. Hosiery was sort of itchy, you had to be careful with it: it was hot in the hot weather, and provided no warmth in the cold weather. Thank God, for parochial school uniforms which required crew socks in the warm months and knee socks in the cold months—that would be those months with an “r” in them. Those uniforms allowed me to save face and chuck the hosiery without having to admit that I really didn’t want to go there after all. Also, the school’s enrollment being only young ladies, with no boys to impress, those knee socks provided a bonus; they were a curtain behind which unshaven legs could hide.
In that uniform mode, Larry, that fashion maven, always wears the same socks. Well, the same kind: either brown or black and made of some, to me objectionable, petroleum-based fiber. All wrong.
According to his thinking though, when I go out to buy socks, I keep adding conditions, so that it becomes almost a safari rather than a 10-minute, in-and-out-of-the-store expedition. He thinks that that is all wrong.
Here are my criteria. Socks should be mostly cotton, and thin cotton too, not those thick, nubby hiking things, unless, of course, you actually are going hiking. Oh, yeah, silk socks can be OK, but you almost never see them and they really aren’t that practical. Wool isn’t so good either, unless it’s really, really cold, that wool content makes its presence known in the form of itchiness. Another issue is that band at the top of socks; it cannot be too binding, but it must be snug enough so that your socks don’t form puddles around your ankles. Socks also must be fairly long so that you don’t see a patch of skin in the gap that can happen between your sock-top and your trouser leg when you sit. (Knee socks take care of that problem by their very nature.) AND, socks have to be interesting. Under the mild-mannered Michiana Chronicler trousers, socks should have a bold color, and a design or pattern. Better yet, is a bold pattern or design in a bold color: the Superman of socks.
Pretty difficult to fill this order, so the best strategy is to be constantly on the prowl for socks. Then you have a selection on hand and don’t have to rely on finding a pair in a hurry, because on most shopping expeditions, you’ll come out of the store empty-handed, or is that bare-footed?
You know who has great socks? Forensic specialist, Abby Sciuto on NCIS. At least looks-wise, she wears socks to covet. (It’s a little hard to tell about fiber-content by just seeing them on television.) She has stripes and patterns that almost walk into the room ahead of her. She probably also has a personal shopper who searches out just the right socks as a large part of the costuming job. See? Sock-searching is serious business.
Find them though, and for those of us who came of age in the 60’s there is a bonus surprise. Socks can be a weapon. Seems that wearing them with sandals can be a source of chagrin and humiliation for your offspring: always a chuckle.
Mentioning this topic to a few people elicited passion. Vicky, told me that she too looks for socks wherever she goes and described some really fine specimens which she found in Japan. Catherine told me about “smell-good” socks.
With hesitation, I use the powerful podium of Michiana Chronicles to promote goods, but if my criteria sound like yours, Google a product that has a name which says a lot, “Space dyed Socklings.” They are terrific foot covers!
Saying “Sock it to me,” with toasty-warm, interesting, comfortably-covered feet in this cold Michiana winter.