Monday, January 16, 2012

My dirty little secret


Some women have an obsession for shoes, jewellery  or dresses.  For me, it would appear I have a thing for socks.

This occurs to me as I scoop up the discarded foot coverings around my room and put on a FULL load of sock laundry.  Is this normal?  Um, don’t answer that. 

How could I have a full load of socks?!  Well, it’s January in Ottawa and it is cold.  I’m tall and my feet are big.  Apparently the blood is too lazy to circulate all the way down there and those dogs get icy.  So this is what typically happens: 

I’ll put on a black pair, only to find they are too thin.  Hmmm, maybe if I double up.  After wearing them for a half an hour those four socks go into the laundry and some striking thermal pair comes out.  Except that they have a hole in the bottom but I can’t find another pair so I wear them anyway, …for about  half an hour then get tired of feeling the floor through the hole and scrounge for another pair.  (I can’t toss the sock with a hole because those buggers were expensive and it will only take a couple of minutes to sew, if I ever get around to it).  Time to raid my husband’s stash.  Hmmm, too big and floppy.  He might be offended if I put them back unwashed.  Check under the bed.  Oh!  There’s that pair I thought I’d lost, or at least half of the pair …. dig, dig,  …  found it!  I’m set, until bedtime.  I must wear socks to bed through most of the winter but they have to be the right socks so that my feet are not too hot nor too chilly.  Sports socks usually do the trick, until about 2:00am when I am suddenly too warm and toss my socks off and fling them by the side of the bed.  Exhausting. 

Along with sock laundry comes sock matching.  I’m sure there is some mischievous god out there that loves to hide and separate socks.  A typical load of laundry will produce 3 pairs of socks and 15 unmatched ones.  Why?!!!  The solo foot coverings go into the “Poor Little Orphan Socks” box until I make my husband match them or my daughter raids the box and makes a family of sock puppets. 

By February, I start my countdown.  Only 120 days until sandal season. 


  1. I'd say you are not a well woman, if I wasn't afraid that some day you might come across my own sock collection.

  2. My husband bought me super warm wool socks last year for Christmas and I want 20 more pairs. If only they didn't cost as much as a week's worth of groceries.

    I also look forward to sandal season. One of my favourite things about summer is the absolute lack of sock laundry. Wither art thou, May?

  3. I usually go through at least 2 or three socks a day, too. When I'm out and about I like to wear socks that go at least to mid-calf, but when I'm home I like to wear little ankle socks. I like think socks, but sometimes I buy nice thick socks only to find that they slide down easily. But I can't throw them out--that'd be wasteful. So every now and then I put those socks on, wear them a bit, but then change to different ones later in the day.

    In my 20's (especially in university) I wore socks that were super-colourful and had crazy patterns. I loved socks like that.