Socks are a mystery to me. They seem to reproduce in my drawers and then I’ve either got too many or they die off in singletons and then I’ve got too few. There’s always an odd one that begs to stay while I wait for the mate which has wandered. Where do these stray socks go anyway? Is there some portal at the back of the dryer where rebellious socks decide to suddenly make a break for freedom?
And then there is the fit – many of my socks leave indents around my shins because the spandex neck (is that the name of the top part of the sock?) squeezes off the blood flow. Is this some lowly attempt at strangulation? Conversely, some are too loose and they slide down into my boot or shoe making me pause mid-stride to yank them back up again. Are they relentlessly falling hoping I’ll toss them in the street to continue their loose and wayward behaviour.
And why are most socks size 9-11? Maybe I was born for stockings, leggings, or tights. In any event, I hasten back to the past for some more frivolity and a poem about my socks (not quite a Grecian Urn).
A Very Short Ode to my socks (with a nod to Keats)
Thou still unravish’d cuff of security,
Thou foster-blend of spandex and cotton,
Socksian historian, who canst thus undress
A fissured heel more softly with thy fabric:
What Argyle legend haunts about thy gusset
Of dyes or seams, or of both,
In leg or the instep of my foot?
is_reflecting 
What a fun ode, Melanie!
My mom has small feet and I’ve heard her ask, many times, why most socks come in sizes 9-11. If she were to write an ode to socks, I think it’d have to be ones she can find the just-right size for her.
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Great post. I can relate to all of it. Thanks for the diagram. Now I will know the name of the part annoying me.
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This was fun to read! Thanks! I hate who those socks wander off and leave their mate wondering!
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This is awesome. I have a collection of mateless socks in my sock drawer. I just wear them unmatched. Someone in my house thinks that is a bad idea, p.s. it’s not me.
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Unmatched socks are a fashion statement.
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Melanie,
The sock struggle is real! Recently I’ve developed a problem w/ my socks feeling too tight. It’s weird. And have you noticed one sock always seems longer than its mate? What’s w/ that? Your poem is perfection. I bet Keats would love it, too. BTW, there is a famous “Ode to My Socks.” Did you k ow that?
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No! I didn’t know there was an “Ode to My Socks” so now I’m going to search for it! Thanks, Glenda!
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