I was a full-term baby, and born in November so I imagine I was conceived in February or thereabouts. I am almost always cold. Are these things at all connected? Scientifically speaking, no. But for the purposes of this post, I’m saying a resounding yes. Hence my love for socks. My passion (uh huh, passion) for them is especially pertinent, what with the cold snap we’re enjoying in Southern England at the moment. But beyond their usefulness at keeping things dry, nice and toasty, socks are fun. Yeah, I said it – FUN. The key is finding and then enjoying the joy of socks. [You can stifle that groan at that quite atrocious play on ‘The Joy of Sex’, cos I’m not going to take it out, so there.]
I have about 20 pairs of socks. Of those, about 12 are everyday socks, used in trainers, plimsolls and other everyday shoes. There are two, allegedly worn for gym attendance, but I haven’t worn them in about 2 years, so I don’t really want to cast aspersions on their functionality. I own 3 pairs of ‘going out’ socks – shiny silver, shiny black and be-ribboned cotton grey. Lately, they haven’t seen the action they deserve, but with an upswing in temperatures and finances, that will soon be rectified. I’ve saved the best category for last, because it’s my favourite – the sleep socks.
For the journey into the land of Nod, I like to be prepared. As the owner of slightly off-key circulation, I’m often to be found with feet cold enough to cool radiators. I have three pairs of helpers to alleviate my symptoms. The first is not dissimilar to the stripy ones above – roughly knitted wool in bright colours, with a separate compartment for each toe. They work in all weather, but are especially suited to the winter months, when the mercury gets real low. The second is an angora and cashmere mix (I like to treat my tootsies right). They’re soft, comfy and calf length, and to be honest, they’re the sexiest items of clothing I own. They work well when I’ve had a foot scrub and enough moisturiser to cause a health and safety slipping hazard. The final pair is a one I grabbed off a Virgin Atlantic flight – red, thin, and slightly worn, they’re not for polite company. They are the workmen of the bunch.
So there you have it. I LOVE SOCKS. It’s Christmas in 9 days. Make a YorubaGirl happy. This yuletide, give socks, and give generously.