From the Blog

Saving Socks, And Also: Why I Must Be A Loony

Okay, so socks. Love em, right? I love socks. I wear them around the house. I wear them to bed. I have specific socks that are better for walking. I have probably 40 pairs of socks and it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.

Why? Because I also have shitty socks. I have socks I don’t like. I have socks that are too thin, or socks made with non-natural fibers, or socks that seem to crowd my toes, or ankle socks that look okay in the summertime with sneakers, but they are terrycloth inside and they feel like sandpaper if I actually do anything¬†athletic, which is very nearly never, but still. And ankle socks don’t keep my feet or ankles warm, and they are white so I don’t want to wear them around the house because they will alert me to how much cat fur we still have on the floors and/or that we live like wildebeests with dirty floors.

Okay? So I have favorite socks, and I have shitty socks that I don’t like. Which ones do you think I wear most often? That’s right, the shitty socks. I wear the shitty socks because they feel low investment and I feel like I want to “save” my favorite socks. Save them for what?

Well, that’s when my nut brain breaks a little. I don’t know. I don’t know why I save the nice socks. It’s like I want to get through my supply of shitty socks first, and save my favorites for last. I look in my sock drawer and see a riot of cute, soft, colorful lovely socks, and I go for the socks that make me crabby instead. Because I want to “preserve” the nice socks. And the cute socks just seem too cute for just wearing around the house.

By the time I do laundry, my shitty sock supply might run low. And I might have the rare opportunity to luxuriate with a heavenly soft lovely pair of socks. But then I think, “Holy crap, I have to do laundry! I only have my nice socks left!” So the shitty socks get washed and the nice socks stay in the drawer. “For later.”

I did not grow up during the depression, and I do not save ketchup or or sugar packets when I go to restaurants. I don’t have fine china that only comes out for special occasions. But I save my nice socks “for later.” For some indeterminate point in the future. For some other time when my feet might be more worthy than they are now.

My name is Heather, and I am a sock saver.

Comments

  1. Find some homeless person, they will want even the shitty ones! I am wearing socks today for the first time in awhile, it’s about 60 degrees here in LA.

    My bad sock habit is a I have a small basket of “lonely socks club” for the single socks missing a mate. It’s mostly kids’ socks and by the time I find the mates, sometimes they’ve outgrown them! But I can’t bring myself to throw them out because somewhere I read about a woman who makes sock puppets for sick children in hospitals and she might want them. If I can track her down. There, do you feel less crazy? :)

  2. I can see we’re related by posts like these. I love wearing my cute, soft, comfy socks but save those for matching outfits in the event I take my shoes off… in public?…no, that won’t happen. But it will get close to laundry day and I have all these comfy socks and I realize, I can wear these!! They’ll get washed in 3 days and I can wear them again!! But I also save them for… later.

  3. QueenieCarly says:

    Spoken like a true pleasure delayer. I know it because I live it, too. Socks aren’t really my thing, but I totally get it. I do it with pajamas (when will the day come when I’ll have someplace special to wear, those, right?) I do it with tea as well. It’s an interesting phenomenon. I even do the same coaching session using the same words (I didn’t grow up during the depression either! lol) I always vow that I am going to change. Never works. If you find the magic solution, let me know!

  4. I’ll take any old socks happy or sad! Or any newish socks that you just don’t want anymore.

  5. Also, any readers who want to get rid of “singletons” please send them to me!

  6. Wear the good socks now – you could die tomorrow. Live for today.

  7. I want to mention also, I am exactly the opposite when it comes to undies. I wear my favorites, the prettiest or most comfy first, and I save the ugly, uncomfy undies for last. My ass is worth it. Evidently, my feet are not.

  8. I say make a clean break with the shitty socks. Get them out of your house NOW! Then you can enjoy your good socks everyday :)

  9. i agree with DJ and Laura. when i was going through my moms stuff (who WAS born during the depression, and had hoarded tons of stuff to prve it), i found a stash of warm wool socks. whihc is ironic because she was always complaining that she didn’t have socks that were warm enough. anyway. there were like 10 pair of nice thick comfy socks, still on their display cardboard. i went thru my sock drawer, got rid of all the crappy socks (homeless shelters are dying for your socks, trust me) and now have a drawer full of delightful socks. whcih i wear every day.
    life is short sweetie. free yourself. move the crappy socks on, and enjoy the good ones. interjecting that feeling of happiness into your daily life is a powerful thing. especially now.

  10. So funny, we all have our quirks! I used to save nice soap. Um, why? Now I use it every day and luxuriate in it, and my life is just a little bit better for it each morning. Get rid of the crappy socks!

  11. “socks that make me crabby” — telltale language indeed. why not get rid of those nasty old ladies and invest in a new pack of dark (or patterned), wonderful socks you can wear around the house without feeling bad about it? my husband just hit on brilliance when he purchased two multipacks of nice thick black cotton socks – they all match, easy to sort and grab, and I can even borrow them to wear around the house. Personally, I have become so addicted to smartwool and the like that I have added these to my christmas wish lists for years now. Too bad they’re so damn expensive. That sock store in Sellwood stocks a few Oregon-based sock companies who grow their own alpacas to harvest wool, etc. but you have to really sort through the nasty korean synthetic socks everywhere to get to the good stuff.

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