Socks, women’s in particular

There are a few things in my life that I’ve had to come to terms with recently:

  1. My thighs are much too big to ever fit into skinny jeans.
  2. My head is much too big to fit into any sort of hat, even those worn by the Pittsburgh Pirates in the ’80s.
  3. My feet are done growing, and will therefore never fit into the size 12s Andrew Childress wore in 4th grade.

Depending on your sources, I wear what is approximately the average shoe size for American males.  It baffles me when I buy socks that are supposed to fit shoe sizes 6-12 (mine are definitely in that range) and they’re about three inches longer than my foot from heal-to-toe.  I guess they “fit” my feet, but they sure as hell don’t fit properly. My best friend when I was 4 years old wore his knee-high tube socks with the last 4 inches drooping off his foot as if he didn’t tug quite hard enough when he put them on that morning.  The image still haunts me.  I can’t deal with baggy, slouchy, loose socks.

This is why I exclusively wear women’s socks. Even with small feet, these socks are so tight you think that you might not be able to get your foot all the way in the first time you try.  Then there’s a moment when your heal overcomes the crux and your foot virtually pops into place.  It goes home, safe, sound, and snug.  It breaths a sigh of relief.  It jizzes in its pants.

date Jan 7th 2010
author Mike
category Life