I like socks.

Big fan.


Of late, my track record with socks is primarily happenstance. Obtained by necessity and without forethought. Acquired on a whim. Impulse socks. They feel good for a moment. Familiar and warm. Comfortable. But after wriggling around for a few hours, you realize that they are ill-fitting; simultaneously restrictive, and yet with elastic that’s pre-shot to Hell. The cheap acrylic fiber gets itchy – fast. It soon becomes apparent that these are Casual socks – disposable – worth nothing more than mere momentary gain and non-existent resale value.

From time to time, I am gifted with socks. And who can refuse Birthday socks, or Christmas socks? Summer socks seem to be my own particular brand, donned annually when seasonal fascination runs its all-too-predictable course. No matter the holiday upon which they are bestowed, they are still only Circumstantial socks. Fancily embroidered, ruffled, or even bedazzled, these Special Occasion socks are too loud, too jarring. The patterns are blatantly obvious. They scream: “Look!! SOCKS!”, calling unnecessary attention to themselves. Desperation socks are, quite simply, not attractive on anyone.

Intermittently, when I find socks that seem just right and bear re-wearing, I go overboard and rush to flaunt my Shameless socks. I’ve even been known to get so caught up that I’ve shown off my Newfound socks by pairing them with sandals, (sandals!) just to ensure everyone can see exactly the color, size and style. But over time, I’ve learned that Premature socks must eventually be laundered, and without the proper pre-treatment, on the other side of that wringer are a battery of Mismatched socks.

So what’s a girl to do?

You can’t just swear off socks.

Can you?

The truth is, I’ve gone unadorned for some time now and it’s not that going socks-less is necessarily undesirable. Quite the opposite. Who can argue that oft times, it’s simply much less hassle to keep things paired-down? There’s a lot of mileage to be gotten from pedicures and reflexology. And while I’m certainly not condoning or recommending Business socks, or in a moment of weakness, succumbing to Pity socks, I can attest to the myriad of fabulous embellishments at a modern woman’s disposal – the very least of which are little strappy things, pumps, mules and the like. Merely slip on what suits your fancy and go, thereby avoiding the Emotionally-overwrought socks entirely!


At the end of the day, it gets cold.

And isn’t the best dream ever the dream of Potential socks?

Socks of warmest cashmere; soft and snuggly, tight enough to stay put, but not so restrictive as to impede your circulation. Socks that envelop you with comfort and reliability. Socks you can pad around all day in. Socks you can easily curl up with in your darkest hour. Socks you know intrinsically by faintest touch, and strongest smell. Socks that wear well over time; bettered by threadbare heels and darned toes. Socks that continually… well… knock your socks off.

Socks that you love beyond all others.


You can keep your little strappy things.

I’ll take socks.

TAGS: , ,

KIMBERLY M. WETHERELL Kimberly's many and varied lives have included actor, stage manager, opera and film director, producer, writer, and restaurateur. She only has three lives left and she's not going to waste a single one of them. The first Arts & Culture Editor for TNB and creator of the TNB Literary Experience, Kimberly has been published by Rizzoli in the book Brooklyn Bar Bites, CRAFT Magazine, The Mighty, and SMITH Magazine, among others. She co-founded the food and drink reading and storytelling series DISH at Housing Works Bookstore Cafe in New York City and she's working on multiple projects including her debut novel, several screenplays, and a documentary about female film editors. She thanks you for stopping by and sitting a spell.

189 responses to “Let’s Talk About Socks”

  1. Zara Potts says:

    I have only read two lines so far.. ‘I like socks. Big fan.’
    …and once again I realise we have been separated at birth.
    That’s all.. going to read on now. I WILL BE BACK.

    • We *were* separated at birth, Zarabeans – I truly believe that.

      I am totally a big fan of socks-socks as well. My sock drawer overfloweth.

      The alternative was funnier though.

      • Zara Potts says:

        Sock-socks are my weakness. I LOVE them.

        The other socks ain’t so bad either…

        • I have a very funny story about Socks socks (not socks-socks) from when I was at a friend’s house on a sleepover in the 4th Grade.

          Perhaps I’ll save that for a follow-up. Not sure I’m prepared to spill that story just yet.

          God knows I’ve had enough Embarrassing socks to last me a lifetime.

        • Zara Potts says:

          Socks-socks? Or socks-socks…
          I really want to hear the socks-socks story.
          Embarrassing socks-socks stories are unbeatable!

        • Socks “socks” (not socks-socks).

          It’s very funny in hindsight, but was *so* traumatic at the time. I went home at 3:30am in tears.

          Now that I really look at it. I think I may have been scarred for life. I should really take it to a deviant socks-therapist/specialist for hyperanalysis.

        • Zara Potts says:

          Socks therapy. I should get some of that.
          Apparently there are some very good socks therapists out there, but it’s better done in pairs.

  2. Zara Potts says:

    Okay. Now I get it.

    I am crazy about socks. Circumstantial socks. Celebration socks. Christmas socks, even.

    But yes. The socks that are just pretty never last. They look good but soon you realise they are just show off socks.

    Cashmere, well-fitting, warm socks are the best.

    You know what I’m sayin’.

    And Kimberly, I am so glad that the hiatus is over. I have missed you so. xx

  3. I’m guessing there might be a divide here between guys and gals on this one.

    As with almost every other type of clothing girls get way more choice and variety with socks. We get white, black or grey. Maybe some patterns if we’re lucky.

    I love it when it’s warm enough to wear converse without socks, but usually it’s cold so I have to sheath my feet to stop them chafing on my sturdier shoes.

    When I was a kid, I mean a really young kid, I used to have a selection of really brightly coloured socks. Yellow, orange, bright blue… those were pretty cool…

    So was this.

  4. Gloria says:


    Okay, I’ll read now.

  5. Lenore says:

    I hate socks. And I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to cashmere. I find it itchy. That’s not normal, right? I don’t think anyone had ever given me socks as a gift, either. My mom sent me a bunch of orange socks once…like ten pairs of them. They were itchy and tight and strange, and I found it bizarre that she sent them to me in the first place. When questioned about it, she admitted that she had originally purchased the socks for herself but found them uncomfortable, so they went to me. She also once sent me some strange invention intended to stop nosebleeds cause I get them a lot. I never used it. My brother sent me a cat muzzle. Also unused. In summary, socks aren’t my thing.

    • I think you’re just trying to play it cool, Lenore.

      I bet, deep down inside, you love socks. I mean, you wouldn’t just get your PhD in psycho-socks-ual behavior analysis if you didn’t find something particularly alluring about the subject, now would you?


    • Are you sure the nosebleed and the cat muzzle were not one and the same?

      How does one muzzle a cat anyway? And why?

      I mean, except a tiger or leopard or jaguar or man-eating domestic shorthaired.

      • Irene Zion says:

        I don’t think it was a cat muzzle.
        It was a blindfold.
        Back in the day before there was medicine for fleas and ticks for cats, you had to bathe them in WATER and FLEA SHAMPOO and they HATED it and they TORE YOU TO SHREDS!
        When you put a blindfold on a cats, they go limp and you can bathe them carefully and nicely and the fleas and ticks go away and the cats don’t get upset and you are not bleeding freely from all the scratches on your body.
        Think of this as a lesson in the old days, from mother.

        • That’s actually true.

          I put a towel over my cats’ head when I clip their nails. I wouldn’t say they go limp, but they do calm down considerably. Enough for me to give them mani/pedis all by myself, anyway…

        • Richard Cox says:

          Hahaha, Irene. I remember that. When I was a teenager, it took two of us to hold down our cat while my dad rubbed the flea shampoo all over her. Then we’d let her go and she’d immediately bolt for the fence, scale it in one leap, and we didn’t see her again for hours.

          Man, she hated that.

        • Irene Zion says:

          Kimberly I should have mentioned the “cut the unwilling cat’s toenails” bonus, but it’s a big one!

          Richard, I hope you and your father wore heavy clothes and long sleeves and face protection!
          Do you remember when the fleas got so bad they would just pop off of the rugs like popcorn? And your ankles were all covered with bites as though you had ankle acne?

    • Irene Zion says:

      Anyone here would be delighted to receive ten pairs of orange socks, Lenore.
      You have no imagination.
      Who said I meant them for your feet?
      Pearls before swine,
      pearls before swine.

  6. Gloria says:

    I can not hear the term “business socks” and not think of Flight of the Conchords.

    I like socks well enough. I appreciate them for their utilitarian nature – they keep me warm; they make my winter shoes fit. But I mostly find socks to be restrictive. And I can’t commit to just one pair of socks. And then I forget that I have socks until it’s one of those laundry weeks where I’m wearing those special lacy undies that I bought three years ago, took out of the package, and placed in my drawer and promptly forgot about. I go digging for these and there, way back in the corner, are the socks I really meant to love but just didn’t. Neglected socks.

    I’ll take all your strappy shoes and send you all my socks. They’re hardly worn. Deal?

  7. Matt says:

    Just when I was thinking, “a little bit of redhead would improve this day substantially.”

    Yeah, I have to second Irwin–for me, socks are a purely functional article of clothing, and purchased accordingly. Black for when I have to wear dress shoes, white for all other times. I even buy the exact same type of Hanes men’s socks whenever they need replacing.

    Though I have thought about getting a few roles of gray ones. After all, you only live once…

    • Doesn’t anyone read the tags???

      Kimberly’s return post = Double entendre epic fail.

      **hangs head in shame**

      • Becky Palapala says:

        No. I didn’t.

        I really do like socks.

        Though in light of this development…which was always there and so not really a development, I’m not sure what the Freudian implications of knee-high socks and motorcycle boots are…

        • It’s okay, Becky. I put it there on the off-chance I wasn’t being obvious.

          But clearly, I wasn’t.

          Maybe I should have spelled it “sox”.

          But then maybe people would have thought I was talking about baseball. 🙂

        • Zara Potts says:

          I got it. But then again, we were separated at birth. Do I get a prize?

        • Darling sister-Zara (Zister?) You are the only one so far!! 🙂 (Timestamp 5:45pm EDT 08/16/10) Triple-proof of our birthright!!

          I have not yet begun to put together your surprise package #2 (#3?) but boy-howdy, do I promise it will be chockablock with delicious things.

          Perhaps even some Delicious socks.

          Because who doesn’t fancy Delicious socks?

        • Zara Potts says:

          Oh! delicious socks.
          I love delicious socks.
          A good sock is always delicious.

          Zister, you rock. we rock. we rock our socks.

      • Matt says:



        Sorry. Too excited to see that you’d posted again, and I read too fast without paying much attention to the peripheral details.

        Plus, I did date a girl once who had a thing for socks, so it wasn’t much of a leap for me to take this at 100% face value.

      • Gloria says:

        I read the tags (after I told you to play it off like you meant it.)

  8. Becky Palapala says:

    As a Minnesotan, I’m forced to like socks. Or to be cold or miserable for months on end.

    So I’ve made peace with socks, even though flip-flops are my preferred footwear.

    No one was so happy as me about the fashion resurgence of clunky boots in recent years.

    This means that I can wear leather mortorcycle boots, which are big and thick and warm enough to not necessitate thick, itchy socks.

    I love motorcycle boots.

    And knee-high socks.


  9. Jeffrey Pillow says:

    I’m a sock fanatic as well. I realized only recently there are two things I have apparently never thrown away in my entire life: ink pens and socks. May your Christmas be merry.

  10. Richard Cox says:

    Kimberly! I was just having a discussion a little while ago on Irwin’s post about female pubic hair, and I remembered the DVD you sent me. And now here you are! Talking about socks, no less. Welcome back!

    All this talk about socks makes me think, inexplicably, about golf. Well not that inexplicably. One thing people seem to forget is many courses contain wilderness areas where you and your lady friend can sneak into in the late evening hours, after playing a few holes, to enjoy your golf socks.

    • Golf socks. I see the connection: Wood, Iron, Balls, Holes in one. A total no-brainer.


      (I’m incorrigible.)

      • Gloria says:

        Rough, swinging, Fore!(play)

        • Richard Cox says:

          And the longest club in the bag is called the Driver.

        • Gloria says:

          God knows we can’t forget the back nine.

        • Par for the course, Richard. Par. For. The. Course.

        • Gloria says:

          Jesus. I Googled “Golf Glossery) and can’t even get past the letter B.

          What about the term “Below the hole?”

          “Below the hole” describes the position of a golf ball in relation to the cup, or hole, once the ball is on the green.

          I could be here all day. Must. Concentrate. On. Work.

        • Zara Potts says:

          Suits me to a tee.

        • Richard Cox says:

          Stolen from the Intarwebz. Rules of indoor golf.

          1. Each player shall furnish his own equipment for play: normally one club and two balls.

          2. Play on a course must be approved by the owner of the hole.

          3. Unlike outdoor golf, the object of the game is to get the club in the hole, keeping the balls out.

          4. For the most effective play, the club should have a firm shaft. Course owners are permitted to check the stiffness before play.

          5. Course owners reserve the right to restrict the length of the club to avoid damage to the hole.

          6. The object of the game is to take as many strokes as necessary until the course owner is satisfied the play is complete. Failure to do so may result in being denied permission to play the course again.

          7. It is considered bad form to begin playing the hole immediately upon arrival at the course. The experienced player will normally take time to admire the entire course, with special attention to well formed mounds and bunkers.

          8. Players are cautioned not to mention other courses they have played, or are currently playing, to the owner of the course being played. Upset course owners have been known to damage a player’s equipment for this reason.

          9. Players are encouraged to bring rain gear along, just in case.

          10. Players should not assume a course is in shape for play at all times. Some players may be embarrassed if they find the course to be temporarily under repair. Players are advised to be extremely tactful in this situation. More advanced players will find alternative means of play when this is the case.

          11. Players should assume their match has been properly scheduled particularly when playing a new course for the first time. Previous players have been known to become irate if they discover someone else is playing what they considered a private course.

          12. The owner of the course is responsible for the pruning of any bushes, which may reduce the visibility of the hole.

          13. Players are strongly advised to get the owners permission before attempting to play the back nine.

          13. Slow play is encouraged. However, players should proceed at a quicker pace, at least temporarily, at the course owner’s request of it, when it is about to start raining.

          14. It is considered an outstanding performance, time permitting, to play the same hole several times in one match.

          15. The course owner will be the sole judge of who is the best player.

          16. Players are advised to think twice before considering membership at a given course. Additional assessments may be levied by the course owner and the rules are subject to change. For this reason, many players prefer to continue to play at a variety of different courses.

        • Gloria says:

          I totally want a shirt that says Course Owner.

        • Confession: I just googled “Rules of Indoor Golf” and while finding several links to RichRob’s hi-larious rules, I found this one to “Jam’s Indoor Golf” – which is an actual indoor golfing site.

          For a good laugh, start reading at “Pace of Play” (keeping RichRob’s in mind) and skim through to the end.


        • Richard Cox says:

          I wish I could claim authorship, but this has been around for a while. You can find one version here.

          You totally should have named your film Why We Prune the Bushes.

        • We thought about that, with a subheading:

          Or, How I Learned to Stop Depilating and Shave the Plumb

          But it didn’t seem as catchy.

        • Richard Cox says:

          I’ve always been slightly in awe and slightly frightened by that big blue bush.

        • Gloria says:

          I think it’s fabulous. What a great picture! What a fabulous link!

          Kimberly, I don’t know why, but I’ve never fully explored your body of work prior to now.

        • Aw! You make-a me blush!

          (Or should that be blueish?)

  11. Don Mitchell says:


    I don’t look at TNB for a few hours and not only are you back, but your posting’s attracted dozens of comments, from all the Right People.

    Sock On, er Rock On.

    In the colder places like Colden, socks rule. Smartwool with maybe a little Lycra.

    Clock socks. I wonder if they’re still out there. I never had a pair.

    The only sock problem I know is the wooden stairs / woolen socks / not quite awake or careless / slip, thud, damage done to knee or butt, depending on whether you’re going up or down.

    Now as for Mr. Irwin’s take on socks, that there should be smut in all things, I will quote from memory part of a ballad well-loved by drunken students back in the day.

    In days of old, when knights were bold
    And birth control not invented
    They wrapped a sock around the cock
    And babies were prevented.

    • Oh lovely Don! Poster boy for TNB this week! Helllllooooooo!!

      It wasn’t only Irwin who took a while to catch onto the double-entendre, but I’m glad to see, with your socksy poem, that you didn’t miss a beat.

      It’s always about socks. Isn’t that what Freud said? 🙂

      • I was to ashamed to bring up ‘wank socks’ before I realised what this… this filth… was really about.

        Don’s song seems an appropriate enough reason to bring it up.

        • Girls don’t have “Wank Socks”. Well… not in the way you mean…

          Women *do* have Wank socks (in the way I mean) but the definition once again falls under a sub-category of “Pity socks” except it is when the we take pity on some poor wanker and gift him (or her) with socks.

        • It figure that girls don’t have wank socks.

          I don’t have a wank sock, which ever definition you’re referring to…

        • Zara Potts says:

          Speaking of wank – I recently heard a great word: ‘WankTank.’ Perfect to describe a massive wanker.

        • Reminds me of ‘wank bank’

          i.e. a library of mental images for enhancing masturbation.

          For example, if a gentleman were to catch a glimpse of a particularly attractive and buxom young lady in town he may take a mental picture to savour in the privacy of his own chamber.

        • Simone says:

          A while ago two guy friends of mine were casually talking amongst themselves, I happened to be at the same table and caught their converstaion.

          Guy number one asks “So, you do it to?”

          “Of course! There’s nothing better than checking out a classy, beautiful chick and storing that mental image for later” says guy number two.

          “Yeah, you bring up the picture in your mind’s eye and dedicate one [wank] to her.”

          They both sit back, grin and nod their heads in unison.

  12. Irene Zion says:


    I have missed you!
    It’s too damn hot for socks where I am now, but when it’s cold, I am a sock fan also.
    (So glad to see you back!)

  13. Ben Loory says:

    i am having serious sock troubles myself at the moment. allow me to tell you about them. the company that used to make my nicely-colored socks (called hue) no longer makes them. i mean, they make socks, but only boring socks, and socks for women, which don’t fit on my feet, and have yodas and shit on em. so i spend all this time on the internet now obsessively looking for nicely-colored socks like my socks used to be before i laundered them 10,000 times, and not having any luck, while my socks slowly fray and float away… it’s very sad, and i’m running out of time.

    and no, i don’t want argyle socks or socks with some cheesy dickhead on a horse on them. i just want nicely-colored socks. like maybe a sodium vapor-lamp orange… or a white blue like the mediterranean… really, anything, but bright and calm… i don’t feel like i’m asking for much…

    i’m posting this here because it seems a likely place to complain.

    i hope this is okay with you.

    good to see you.

  14. I recently cleaned out the bottom drawer of my dresser because I was tired of forcing the overstuffed drawer shut forcing the entire thing to shudder. Among my discoveries? I have kid socks. maybe a few “teen socks” but mostly the kid variety. I favor bright stripes, dinosaurs, snowmen, turquoise lizards and orange dump trucks. Tucked way, way in the back are proper blacks, a few gray, and the errant sport sock ( who am I kidding with sport socks?) Apparently no one — hence the back of the drawer. Long comment short: I couldn’t get rid of any of them except for the white ankle variety. Apparently, my tennis days are over. Miss you — hope all is swell in Florida with Lullaby!

  15. The perfect socks will find their way into your drawer. Of that I’m sure. And you’ll be able to wear them with sandals. But I may have to wait to see you until pedicure day since I threw all mine away. 😉

  16. Joe Daly says:


    Here I was, thinking that socks were little more than a sartorial booby prize. Socks are one of the greatest afterthoughts in my day-to-day. Maybe because I live in Southern California, where socks are often unnecessary, save for the suit-and-tie crew.

    But growing up in New England, socks were the presents I got from people who either didn’t have much themselves or from people who didn’t know me. Big, wolly socks that made my feet itch from across the room. Maybe that scarred me on the whole sock thing. Idaho.

    So thanks for presenting this revolutionary new perspective to foot cover things. I had no idea they even came in cashmere…

    Fun read!

  17. Rachel Pollon says:

    I think I got all the way to Pity socks before I figured out what was going on. What does that say about me? Funny, funny.

    Stay socksy!

    • Ha! It means you’re one of THREE people who got it without explanation!!!


      • dwoz says:

        I don’t want to sound like I’m claiming a prize after the answer is announced, but I didn’t want to blurt out what I thought it was about, thinking it might be like a rorschach test, where you look at an indiscriminate blob of ink and say, “that’s two sheep fornicating,” look at the next blob, and say “that’s two women having lesbian sex,” etc.

  18. Jim says:

    (G) Spot on. Great socks rocks!

  19. God, I want me some socks exactly like those last ones you described. Why are they so hard to find?!?

  20. Alison Aucoin says:

    Growing up in Louisiana I had socks for winter (if you can call it that) of course but I honestly never gave them much thought. The first week after I moved to Washington State I was having dinner with friends and they were going off on the amazing attributes of Smart Wool socks. They were positively orgasmic in their descriptions. I thought they were loons. It was summer and even though it was chillier than I was accustomed to I was still enjoying sandal weather. Then came September and I began to have an inkling of the importance of the right sock. By January I would have sold my right arm for a good, REALLY good, pair of socks. Now in NC, I enjoy summer strappies sans socks but make an annual fall pilgrimage to REI for Smart Wool necessities. Just the other day I was thinking that Ella is getting old enough to hike for bits on her own (My back is SO grateful!) and she’ll need good socks and shoes for the fall. I’m beyond excited to shop for tiny ones. I wonder if she’ll express preferences.

  21. Alison Aucoin says:

    With regard to the allegory of this post, (it seemed important to separate my comments given that I mention my kid in my previous comment) I think you might have overlooked an important ‘sock’ incarnation: the sheer pleasure of the boyfriend sock. You know, when you wake up with a terrible case of bedhead and your feet are cold and you wore high heeled strappy sandals and a cocktail dress the night before so you grab his dress shirt and socks off the floor to pad into the kitchen to make coffee. Ahh, nice memory of heterosexuality…

    • … I prefer sex “socks”.


    • Also, I kind of feel like a dunce. This isn’t really an allegory, the way The Crucible is an allegory of the McCarthy Trials – it’s really just straight up metaphor and stupid punnery.

      I used the word “allegory” because it sounded high-falutin’ and important at the time, but after a little bit of reflection on my 11th grade English classes, I suddenly remembered the difference.

      I only mention this here, because you then repeated my use of it.

      Thanks for not mocking me.


  22. Eye am Sockless in Gaza. That’s probably too obscure of a Huxley reference, but it’s because I’m trying to avoid admitting that I wear those tiny ankle-cut things that for years my friends have been making fun of, frequently asking where the little pom pom on the back is, and calling me “Tracy Austin.”

  23. Stefan Kiesbye says:

    Balega socks — your best and most reliable friends…

  24. Greg Olear says:

    Darn it, it’s nice to have you back.

    (Forgive me if someone made that joke already).

  25. Gloria says:

    It has just occurred to me that no one has mentioned angry socks.

    • Or Make-up socks

      (Or Break-up socks, for that matter)

      But then again, I don’t think people are really reading-reading this. I think they’re skimming quickly and think I’m actually talking about the wooly/cottony/silky things one puts on one’s feet.

      Even after I put a link at the end to clarify things.

      And the tag that explicitly states that I’m not talking about socks.

      Le sigh.

      • Gloria says:

        You know, I got it on the first read through that you were speaking metaphorically, but I took it as dating in general, not sex specifically. (Which, if you read my first comment through that lens, it makes a lot more sense.) I thought you were too sophisticated for a gratuitous socks scene, but I see that it’s all socks and drugs and rock and roll with you.

  26. Mindy Macready says:

    I love migratory socks they always come home to a toasty dryer or hang out between billowing white sheets at the clothesline

    home is where the socks are.

  27. Simone says:

    You are too funny, my girl!

    I was in stitches reading these lines:

    “And while I’m certainly not condoning or recommending Business socks, or in a moment of weakness, succumbing to Pity socks, I can attest to the myriad of fabulous embellishments at a modern woman’s disposal – the very least of which are little strappy things, pumps, mules and the like. Merely slip on what suits your fancy and go, thereby avoiding the Emotionally-overwrought socks entirely!”

    Ok, I’ll admit it took reading this twice for the penny to drop. But it’s 4:30 pm, the end of the day and my brain is fried.


  28. Ducky Wilson says:

    I prefer socks found at a hotel bar. Quick and easy so I can get back to work.

    I’m such a man.

    • Ducky, you are NOT a man!!!

      You are just a duck who knows exactly who she is and what she wants, and no one could love you more for that than I !!!

      Thanks for checking in and reading, displaced Brooklyn soul sister!!!

  29. Simon Smithson says:

    Ahhaaa ha ha ha ha ha…

    It’s so perfect that you had to edit this for the sake of clarity because people weren’t getting it.

    So, so, so perfect.

    It will make me happy forever.

    Oh, K-Dub. When you’re missing socks, all you really need is some socksual heeling.

    At least, that’s what I’m told.

    I especially love right now that a) there’s a brand over here called Explorer Socks, and b) sometimes I forget and call them Adventure Socks.

    • I’m DEFINITELY into learning more about Australian Explorer/Adventure socks!!!

      (I mean, seriously what innocent American girl could refuse hot Outback socks?)

      I felt a total dunce – and still do a little for having to clarify – but at least there are a few people in this crazy world of ours who got me from the get-go…

      And at the end of the day, aren’t we all just looking for Understand socks??? 🙂

      • Simon Smithson says:

        None of them.

        It’s awesome.

        For our traveling socks salesmen, that is.

        Like these guys:


        In the most non-euphemistically way possible, K-Dub, let me know if you guys get super-cold night and days, and I will send you some Explorer Socks (oh, goddamnit. There’s no way I can make this sound like I’m not propositioning you. I MEAN THE ACTUAL SOCKS! That sounds bad too. What have you done?? I mean THE SOCKS YOU PUT ON YOUR FE- I give up).

        Understanding socks are some of the nicest socks you’ll ever have.

  30. Lisa Rae Cunningham says:

    “Desperation socks are, quite simply, not attractive on anyone.”

    “At the end of the day, it gets cold.”

    Kimberly, you are awesome.

    • Awesome socks.

      Yep. That about sums up the ongoing search. 😀

      Thanks for reading and chiming in, Lisa Rae!! One day, I hope to get my booty out to LA and meet all you crazy/wonderful/beautiful TNB-westcoasters…

  31. Marni Grossman says:

    You’ve been missed, love!

  32. Mindy Macready says:

    I wonder if Bill and Hillary really liked socks?

    I think they did, perhaps every leap year 😉

    but seriously rest in peace socks


  33. Erika Rae says:

    Hey! The redhead’s back! *hee* So glad to see you here, my dear – and with a straight and frank socks talk, no less. I hate those Look at me socks, too. All my socks are black. My problem is that even THOSE don’t match. Ridiculous. At least you sort of have to be looking close to be able to tell.

    Strappy things.


  34. Slade Ham says:

    I’ve missed you, Kimberly.

    Socks or no socks.

    It’s good to see you back 🙂

    • No, no, Slade… it is I who missed you.


      I got your Tampa dates wrong in my calendar. I thought you were here this weekend, not last.

      I sock. 🙁

      • Slade Ham says:

        No worries. The upside is that they LOVED me there. I should have return date in my Inbox this week. It will certainly happen again.

        So you don’t feel too bad, I forgot as well. Megan reminded me but it was too late…

        • Gloria says:

          I think I’ve asked you this before, but: do you ever come to Portland?

        • @Slade: Let me know! I pinky-swear to write it down properly and show you ’round! kmwss2c at the gee to the alternative spelling of male.

          @Gloria: And here I thought you were talking to me… 🙁

        • Slade Ham says:

          I’m actually working on Harvey’s. I do Seattle, I’ve just never made it down to Oregon yet. Probably early next year. They just opened a new club there, so Harvey’s is a bit more willing to bring in new blood, which is good for me.

        • Gloria says:

          Dude. Let’s be clear: you come to Portland and you’re schedule will be instantly filled with all kinds of red head zaniness. AND you’ll have a free place to stay. And by place I mean couch.

        • Gloria says:

          HTML error


          also, your not you’re


  35. Kimberly:

    I highly endorse the idea of your socks one day meeting my socks. I think they’d get along quite well. And heck, think of all the cute little socks they could make if they ever decided to sock fock.

    Dang. We’d never have to buy socks again…

  36. Mindy Macready says:

    “Nobody touches the Sockbaby Jesus”


    “so ya wanna play”

  37. Around the house, I go barefoot. It’s where I don’t have to wear footwear, after all. I like to be free and comfortable.

    I wear whites to the gym. Usually Target-bought. Some ankle, some calf. Lots of cotton under sneakers that weigh only a few ounces. I wear whites a lot, considering I work in a gym.

    I wear darks to dress it up a bit. Can’t wear athletic socks with jeans, after all; might as well wear sandals to the prom. I have some thicker darks I tend to wear with jeans, as well as some thin darks I wear with suits. Some have patterns, some are just plain black. A few are just plain blue. I’m never sure anyone can tell the difference, but I know.

    Socks are great. I’ve heard that one of the surest ways to rejuvenate your day is to change your socks. It’s amazing the effect different socks can have on perspective.

    Which is why, of course, I own lots of socks. I wear lots of socks. All the damned time. Even when I wear athletic socks, sometimes they’re higher or lower. Even when I wear dark socks, sometimes they’re plain and sometimes they’re patterned and sometimes they’re thin and sometimes they’re thick. I mean, how could one ever get away with owning only one pair of socks, ever, for life?

    I’m totally talking about socks. I’m probably talking about something else, too.

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