I am a sock nerd. Actually, I am a nerd in a lot of respects. My friends will remember the love note to my favorite pen, which, by the way, is still my favorite style of pen six years later. And now I’m writing about socks. There is no literary value to this post. There is no insight into human nature. There is no interesting story about my work. Just stop reading now. This will go downhill rapidly.
I used to deal with sock chaos. I wear black dress socks to work every day, so I, like many men my age, have a lot of black socks. When a pair wears out, we buy a new pair. So over time, we build up a collection of black socks. But although they are all black, calf-height black socks, they often aren’t all the same brand, so there are slight differences among them. So what? you ask. Black is black, right? Socks are socks, right?
Yes, a normal person would respond. However, I am not a normal person. Therefore I must answer with an emphatic: “No, you fool. Not all socks are the same!” You just can’t wear socks that aren’t exactly the same brand. I can’t explain it, it’s just that way. Every laundry day was a mess: pairing up socks, finding the correct mates, dealing with orphan socks, it was all just torture. This went on for far too long.
Stop reading. This is getting embarrassing.
Every few years, I purge my socks. I buy 10 pairs of new black socks, and throw out the ragtag collection that wastes so much of my time and attention. But soon a sock gets lost, another gets a hole, I replace some, and soon I’m left with the same mess that I was originally in. I seemed to be doomed to repeat this sock tragedy forever.
But then I discovered this sock:
Darn Tough look like normal dress socks, but they are just about indestructible. They’re comfortable. The spandex content keeps them from falling down. They’re long enough so that when I cross my legs, no one can see my ugly white legs sticking out. I could go on and on.
Seriously, stop reading. This doesn’t get any better.
I love these socks. My children received Darn Tough socks for Christmas last year. My younger son was skeptical at first, but now he’s a convert. he takes advantage of the fact that due to the wool content of the sock, they don’t have to be washed after every wear. TMI.
Sure, they’re more expensive than generic socks that I just to wear. But these are guaranteed for life. I own three pairs of these socks. One sock recently developed a tiny hole around the big toe, which my wife unfairly blamed my toenail for. I don’t know what she has against my toenails. There’s a history there, you don’t want to know about it. Anyway, I mailed the poor sock back to the company, and they sent me a brand-new pair.
I could go on about these socks, but I’ll close with one more tidbit: they’re made in the USA. So my sock obsession is a jobs program for US manufacturing. Is that pathetic sophistry enabling my mental disorder? Maybe. But I still highly recommend Darn Tough Socks!