|
|
You Want Me to Shove This Where?Feb 12 '01 Write an essay on this topic.The Bottom Line After years of searching for socks that actually fit my enormous feet, I'll chose any socks I can get, be they pink or plaid or chartreuse. I know this topic has become the joke du jour and everyone is rushing here to write opinions more outrageous than the outrageous ones that came before it. However, I must admit that I consider chosing socks serious business. You see, I have very big feet. By the time I was in sixth grade I wore mens 12EEE shoes. Now as an adult I usually wear 13EEEE. To top this off, I have very large legs with very well developed calf muscles. Every time I go to the sock store, I tug and tug, roll my foot, swear, and curse the genetics gods that decided I should have my 6'2" father's feet. On those rare days when I actually manage to pull a sock all the way over my island of a foot, invariably it reaches the road block of my calf, unable to proceed any farther. This sock is too narrow, this one is too tall, this one is too small, this one is too thin (having such big feet my socks all get stretched no matter what I do). For a long time I boycotted the whole sock thing, skipping them altogether and shoving my bare feet into almost-as-difficult to find shoes. This wasn't too bad when I wore loafers, or even sneakers as long as they weren't high tops (they can really chafe your heels without the extra layer of protection). But as I live in areas prone to snow, I also had to shove my bare feet into snow boots. Trust me, this gets unpleasant in a hurry. The first time the snow drifts were just a wee bit too high I had wet popsicle feet. Not a pleasant sensation, I assure you, especially when you have to wear the boots for the rest of the day. So off I went in search of the magic socks that actually fit my feet, were short enough to not have to fit over my grapefruit-sized calf muscles, and were actually made of a material thick enough to withstand the strain of constant stretching from oversized feet. About two years ago I finally found the perfect socks, or at least as close as I think I'll ever come to nirvana in sockland. I was in the Athlete's Foot store in the Burlington Mall and I saw a rack of 1/4 length King Size men's socks. Designed for folks who wear men's 13-15 shoes, the socks were supposed to go to about two inches above the ankle. That's still below the bulk of my calf muscle, so I thought it was worth a try. I gracefully slipped my foot into a sock (well, as gracefully as something that large can perform any movement). It fit. Now the litmus test. Would the socks fall low enough on my leg to actually stay in place? As the moment of truth approached, I pulled the sock up my leg and realized that the answer was not quite. So close, yet so far. However, I refused to be deterred. The clerk assured me the socks would stretch a bit with wear, and having seen this phenomenon many times before I had no reason to doubt him. In the past, by wearing socks that were much to small for me I stretched them beyond all hope of wearability at a rapid pace. Since these socks almost fit, I figured the stretch rate would be much slower and maybe even stay at a reasonable level for wearability. Then further inspiration struck. I simply folded the socks over about half an inch from the top. Perfect fit. I cleaned the store out of their entire stock of these socks, ignoring the exhorbitant price of 3 pairs for $10, having learned through years of sock hunting experience that I have to take them when I can find them. I think I bought 18 pairs of socks that day. As time wore on, my socks started to wear out. Soon little holes appeared here and there. I ventured back to various Athlete's Foot stores and purchased the 3 or 6 pairs of socks they had in stock at any given time. More time wore on, and fresh socks replaced worn socks. Poor battle weary socks that served me well but had to be retired. They were getting old. I made more and more trips to the magic sock store, frequently turned away without any magic socks. My poor veteran socks get thinner and thinner and acquire more and more holes, but still they serve me. It is winter, and there has been a lot of snow, and even socks with holes are better than no socks. So just how do I chose my socks these days? That is, after all, the point of this long drawn out story. These days I wander over to the sock drawer and search for the socks with the fewest holes, hoping that this will be the day the magic sock store calls with news of reinforcements. My poor socks have earned retirement. Hopefully I can grant it before they are too threadbare to enjoy it.  |
| Read all comments (2)|Write your own comment |
|
Ads by Google
|
