Why tidy a sock drawer first thing on a Monday morning? Well - why not when the laptop is updating, cleaning up and not allowing you to do anything other than stare at a blue screen? When you are waiting for a Waitrose delivery (and realising just how good it is that Ocado offers a one hour window. Two hours not daring to go to the bathroom for fear they come and go without leaving your apricot jam is just too much...) And when you've been struggling to find a matching pair of socks for so long that you figure you could save twenty minutes a day by tipping them all out on the bed and biting the sock bullet.
My sock drawers are not strictly drawers of course - rather too very large baskets. Tipped onto the bed the mountain was alarming - in particular to the emergency cat (okay - her name is Keegan - she will feature heavily in future posts so I may as well introduce her) who is now snoozing quietly where it once was.
Deciding to be organised I grabbed two large freezer bags and a Sharpie. The sock drawer contained not only socks but tights, stockings and all other manner of hosiery (yes - I admit it - there were pop socks - unworn since a colleague told me if I wore such monstrosities I would never have sex again...)
The practical tights - thick, warm and woolly - were rolled neatly and replaced in one basket. The socks - isn't what this is all about - were paired up and popped into the other. Reader - I do not, ever, need another pair of socks. I have enough to last me this life and the next (assuming socks are required which I somewhat doubt).
It was what remained (that phrase feels grammatically incorrect but I am not sure why as I am pretty certain it is not..) that prompted this post.
At least twenty pairs of opaque black tights. Forty denier, Marks and Spencer. Regulation office wear, I could never find a pair when I needed them so bought far more than I needed - figuring you could never have too many.
Probably the same number of luxury tights - some still in their packets. Worn at parties, events, on special occasions. Guaranteed to last one night only due to a jagged fingernail it was always important to keep a pair - or ten - in reserve. Popped into plastic they are safe from snags - and probably from being worn again.
It's perhaps inappropriate on a family friendly blog to mention such items as stockings or their modern rash-inducing-latex compatriots but they are there too - relics from romantic getaways, now consigned to a clearly labelled freezer bag.
Why the poignancy and need to post about something so mundane?
I miss getting dressed for work. Office uniform, smart clothes, black tights, heels or brogues. Hair and face done, ready to face the world.
I miss the parties, the events, the reasons to get dressed up. Plunging necklines - not that I ever opted for them - and sheer stockings are not really de rigeur for a girlie get together in the local (unless you live in Weatherfield of course)
I am of course delighted to have a basket full of perfectly paired up socks - each tucked inside its partner ready and waiting to be popped on and hidden under a pair of plimsolls (I like to call them kitchen shoes...) And I am sure there are many out there who would love not to have to think about what to wear every day, instead pulling on a pair of skinny jeans and a white shirt before piling your hair in a ponytail, or worse still a hairnet, and heading downstairs to start work.
There's a sentimental saying about friendship often to be found on facebook. All about friends being there for a reason, a season, or forever. Maybe hosiery is like that?
The woolly tights will I am sure replace socks under skinny jeans when the snow falls and there are cakes to be delivered. Maybe one day I'll burst open the freezer bags, step back into a pair of ten deniers and head out to receive a National Baking Award! Maybe the opaques will come in handy when I meet a business advisor to discuss expanding into Europe?
And the pop socks - binned? What do you think?
Photo borrowed from stepbystepmom.com - as my socks are of course now back in their baskets. Glad to see I am not the only one to get sentimental over socks.