A few weeks ago, I invited a good friend to join me for my favorite exercise mat class. The discipline is Feldenkreiss, which combines subtle movements with self-awareness for increased balance and flexibility. Part-meditation, part-stretching, the practice is low impact but does require focus.
“Do I need to wear anything special?” Leah asked.
“Just wear street clothes and socks,” I replied.
When Leah arrived, I knew I was in trouble. She had, upon her feet, the most amazing socks. They were rainbow striped and had just the right amount of fuzz. And I wanted them!
I wanted them so badly, I could barely concentrate when the instructor asked us to roll onto our backs, straighten our legs and stretch our toes. In fact, I ignored the direction that I knew had very well been given: to close our eyes.
Instead of focusing on the sensation of the mat against my heel, I was ruminating on whether Leah had been more likely to have purchased them at Nordstrom’s or Macy’s and how soon class would be over so I could get a pair for myself.
And that was the moment that I first realized that I have a serious case of sock envy. I admit it. I love socks. Socks are the most non-judgmental piece of clothing a woman can own. Unlike blue jeans, that brand the size of your waist on a leather patch, or jackets chosen to accentuate or neutralize various figure pluses or flaws, socks rarely make you feel bad about yourself.
I can’t say the same about pantyhose, by the way. And according to an energetic conversation begun by MusicWithThat from Pennsylvania, I’m not alone. Music’s instinct was to wear sheer black hose with close-toe shoes to a family wedding, but her California relatives told her that “pantyhose are passé.”
Until I read this thread, I thought I was the only one for whom digging through underwear drawers for a pair of pantyhose without runs constituted a life-defining moment. Now, I realize it’s not just about finding the intact pair, but whether it should be sheer black, nude or what many members counsel, none at all. And then there’s whether we should let fashion dictate our choices, comfort versus style, how to look contemporary while still looking our age, the chemicals in self-tanners and so on.
See what I mean? Pantyhose brings up complex “feelings” in a way socks never would. That’s why, in fact, I build my winter wardrobe around my choice of socks — and not the other way around. I’ve got pink chubby anklets I wear under my athletic shoes, padded at ball and heel for the competitive edge. I’ve got sophisticated black knee-highs laced with cashmere for cold winter days. I’ve also got sleek white liners infused with bug spray and have followed Donnarene’s advice to layer soft acrylic puffy socks over coconut oil for the softest feet ever.
I even have surprisingly thin and warm Smart Wool socks, not as useful in California as they were when I lived in Maine, but occupy the same place in my heart as my fantasy of going on a Peruvian trek some day, where the same exact brand of socks makes an appearance on travel maven Kathy Dragon’s sample packing list.
But my favorite socks are the ones you’ll rarely see. They are the wild children and evil twins, the mis-matches and the garish, the favorite ones with holes and the ones that would embarrass even my friends. And best of all, they are worn under boots. My fashion secret, tucked comfortably away out of sight, hugging each and every one of my toes with carefree abandon.
So forgive me, dear instructor, if when the rest of the class had rolled onto our sides, I didn’t hear the direction. You, I understand, can help me feel more flexible, more healthy and more agile. You respect me. You even care about me. But Leah’s socks: as soon as I can find a pair of my own, they’re going to love me back.
I agree, Carol. I have two boxes filled with various pairs of socks…work socks, fun socks, play socks etc. I don’t even wear panty hose any more…put on a dress last week and my partner said “why are you WEARING THAT?” Anyway….I love socks more than clothes. You can hide, you can make statements and apparently this love for socks is in my DNA…my younger son loves ‘em, too (or at least he DID when he was younger). My favorite sock store? in the cannery in San Francisco AND Ocean Front Walkers on 24th Street in SF. Enjoy!
BTW, I also looooove rainbow socks. Did you ever find out where your friend got hers???
To have Carol Orsborn coveting anything about you or on you or near you is an honor and frankly, for me, a personal thrill. What you teach me here in your blogs, Carol,l is how to be a woman over fifty who asks bravely and creatively for what she wants. If not now, when? The socks were given to me as a gift…but I will find out where my friend got them. I now have a vibrant mission. They shall be yours. Thank you.
Leah Komaiko
I love to have a whole drawer (separate from my lingerie) full of pretty panties with the tags on them. It makes me feel so “rich” for some reason. Another thing is I ALWAYS wear matching bra and panties. Black if wearing black, or beige or white if wearing most anything else. I guess it goes back to growing up and hearing always be prepared in case you are in an accident and have to go to the hospital and you don’t want to have “wholey underwear”.
Although I am extremely fanatical about getting a spot on my clothes or a tear or something like that, the sock issue is not so much one for some reason. Being a person with some issues with OCD, I gotta have some relief.
Wow…the loneliness of a sockaholic is finally waning! Rainbow socks…love ‘em but especially the ones with “toes”, Argyle’s…my favourite. And yes, the most frustrating thing is when I KNOW I’ve put pairs in the wash and they come out singles. I do wish, like coathangers, they would just breed when they are in a dark, quiet place such as the closet. Mostly, though, I blame the cats…how else would I find singles behind the wall unit, fridge or under the bird cages, cozying up with the dust bunnies?
I knit socks.
Gave up smoking when I was 40 and needed something to do to keep my hands busy while I watched TV and stuff. A co-worker was kind enough to teach me how to knit socks.
I can’t knit sweaters or any other articles of clothing, well sure a scarf or slippers but I mean fancy stuff.
Anyway, I started off just knitting plain old work socks, hubs, kids and their better halves were the happy recipients.
A couple of years ago I was introduced to this really cool yarn, it makes it’s own pattern, lovely stripes and gorgeous colours, I was hooked. It’s superwashed wool, 75% wool and 25% polymide, which means they don’t shrink when you dry them in the dryer.
I figure I’ve knit about 200 pairs or so. How many pairs do I own, 2.
My sister in law who manages a crafts boutique in Quebec City asked me to knit for them. I sell the socks to them for $25. a pair and they pretty much double the price to sell in the boutique.
It’s not a get rich quick scheme by any means, but it does help me buy more yarn so I can knit for my loved ones without having to charge them.
Hello Nikotyme & all sock lovers!
I recently knitted my first pair of socks! They are made from a wool/nylon blend by Patons. I love wearing them ~ they are so warm! So, I’m hooked on making my own socks and have already bought more yarn for the next pair. It is a microdenier Acrylic (75%) and merino wool (25%) by Naturally Caron. A beautiful teal color.
What is the brand name of the wool/polymide yarn that you love?
I love the nice socks from Lands End. the ones with no seam or that have very little seam on the toes. I turn my socks inside out if there is a seam in them. My g/daughter does the same thing. When I first saw her do that I laughed because no one knew I did that too. Anyone else out there do that? I always wear my socks to match my slacks. Are panty hose really passe now? If so what is the best sun tan lotion to self tan with? Need to know soon. It is almost spring in OK. LOL
Love all my fellow sock lovers! And Leah Komaiko–I’m totally shameless! But if you do find the socks, we’ll do the happy dance together!