Socks

I have been on a quest for black socks for awhile. Awhile being a couple years. I had this perfect pair of black socks - lightweight, they came about 4 inches above the ankle, dressy enough for nice pants without being trouser socks which never ever stay in place.

Now, if you know me well, you know I wear white socks without qualms. Black pants, black shoes? White socks. What the hell, right? Of course, some of this was because I only owned that one great pair of black socks. And I'd look for black socks and I couldn't find any. And then tragedy struck. My perfect black socks got a HOLE in the toe!

I gave up and bought the closest thing I could find. And they sucked. Ankle height, so when I crossed my legs you could see my legs, and I don't shave regularly enough for that to be happening, in addition to the fact that it looked moronic.

Last week I was in The Gap, which was an odd enough occurance in itself, when the light shown down from above and illuminated the black socks I had been searching for. I bought three pairs. Now, I am slightly less slopped together. Maybe by the time I'm fifty I'll look put together... but don't hold your breath.