"Life Socks"

For as long as I can remember I have always worn very safe socks. I have seen numerous colourful socks stare at me from the hem of trousers and jeans. Laughing at my monochrome, safe and boring choices. Admittedly as a rule of thumb your socks should either match the colour of your trousers or be a close match to lengthen your leg. It’s an optical illusion really.

I always envy people who can wear whichever socks they like. It occurred to me when hanging mine and my partners laundry out to dry the other day. I always try my hardest to hang them in their pairs however when you wear all black socks it becomes slightly impossible. So I just hung them out to dry then I noticed it. Like a “sock-mometer” going from boring to outlandish and crazy. 
 

 My partners socks are forever colourful and fun and he seems to be able to have a young heart and attitude with it. Whereas mine are classic and sensible and I always seem to be working far too much. Is the way your life pans out, decided by your choice of socks? Obviously not but I do find it incredibly hard to even branch out to a bit of colour. Even my underwear, always black and white. I have to admit if I were to get more coloured socks, I would have much less difficulty when coming to hang the laundry.

I seem unable to wear odd socks and can usually tell when they don’t match. Bizarre I know. I also always find that when my socks are pulled up I get a real sense of satisfaction. It must come from my boarding school days where knee length grey socks, pulled straight, teamed with a garter were compulsory. God damn you. I still can’t find the rebel in me. Maybe I should give it a try for a week and see how I feel.

“Don’t let your socks define you!”

 

xoxo