Socks maketh the man

There are certain things that reiterate to me that I have a great love for many things in life. A beautiful sunset, enjoying a bowl of delicious cereal, the alluring scent of a female as she passes on by, and, also, to be quite frank - wearing new socks. 

Yes, I have no qualms in saying that  there is something uniquely wonderful and comforting to ones psyche when placing your foot into a quality new sock. 

For far too long my sock game has been questionable to say the least. Yes, I do own some respectable looking socks, however, regretfully, these are an exception rather than the rule. 

I can freely admit that there have been occasions when I have been in the process of purchasing new footwear and that time arose for me to try them on in the shop - something that has usually reduced me into a clammy sweat as I nervously wondered whether the socks that I had chosen/found for the day would cause me embarrassment.

It really has never been a particularly fetching look when I have visited somebodies home and had to remove my shoes to then have curious eyes gazing at my socks as a big protruding toe also announces its arrival.

For me, this kind of behaviour has cost me too many 'cool points' for my liking. How can one take pride in their appearance when their sock game is seriously lacking. In my opinion it contradicts my superficial endeavours. 

As a young chap I was inspired by my fathers aptitude for wearing quirky novelty socks. Consequently, I followed suit and this served me very well. Then I grew out of that phase and became somewhat frugal and began to happily purchase packs of say seven black (useless) socks from fashion houses such as Primark and George, (Asda). These socks really didn't cost much and they invariably did not last long, too. Elasticity being one thing that would waver quicker than it should have done. 

You get what you pay for is the very adage that springs to mind. And in this instance it is oh so true. I went through a dark period of basically not caring about what separated my feet from my shoes.

Eventually, one day I finally got a grip of reality and what was important in my life and decided that this downward spiral could no longer continue. The sock game had to be upped unless I wanted to perpetually suffer the indignation of people, (mostly my sister) mocking my socks. 

So, as a result I began to pay considerably more for my socks with the foresight that a good pair of socks is a hall mark of a well put together dude. Good socks and underpants are as important as a good pair of shoes. 

A new mantra has been written up and because of the fact that I am amassing a quite debonair collection of pretty socks I can unequivocally say without reserve that my cool ratings are soaring at an all time high right now. 

So much so - that if I choose to sport the socks and sandals look in public my healthy collection of points won't take too much of a hit, and you know why? Well, it's because I have lovely new socks. 

Demola, TCC