"I grow old. . . I grow old. . .
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled," quoth T. S. Eliot.
"I grow old. I grow old. I shall wear footwear of Joseph Abboud," declares Monsieur le Kokonuts.
The sock drawer (top one of the bureau) is populated by old socks. Most are black. Some are white. The black pairs had served as dress socks. They were all tight, a struggle to put on. Many had nascent or fully realized holes.
The other day I went to Marshall's and splurged. I bought three pairs of Docker's socks (shades of brown and green; a radical innovation) $6.99, and three pairs of Joseph Abboud socks, similarly tan and brown and pale green. $9.99, a stylish revolution.
Let me tell you. These socks glide on like water.
Wearing them is like walking on air, compared to the peasant socks I was formerly wedded (or welded) to, sweatily. Euuuuuuuuh.
A footly pleasure. (We shall not at this juncture veer off into fetishistic digressions, for once.)
Who knew socks could be so stylish and functional?
In what other areas of my life am I missing out on such pleasures?
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3 comments:
Nice prices. However, would socks bought at list price feel worse on your feet?
Or would free socks glide underfoot that much easier?
Reminds me, I do need new socks...
As long as you never wear socks with sandals... ever.
There are shirts made out of that same material... you know, and they are very nice.
I like golf socks myself; only to walk around the house in on weekends. They are made with a triple layer cusion of cotton material on the bottom and it's sheer pampering for the feet.
I shall never grow old... I shall never grow old, whilst my heart is ever young ~ quoth Scarlett
Scarlett & Viaggiatore
You made those socks sound semi-sexy, PK.
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