Socks are a sartorial minefield. Tread carefully, choose wisely, and you'll make it out alive; make one wrong move and... BOOM. Bad socks. So in order to prevent certain catastrophe, we’re here with a handy guide to help you avoid sock pratfalls and blunders.
Think of us as your coaches and mentors in the grand Minesweeper game of sock-wearing -- each point below is one of those little flag thingies you put on potential mines, and each right move will invariably lead you closer to becoming that little yellow face that’s wearing those weird goggles people take into tanning salons.
No Socks: You appreciate what you call "ultra-risky freedoms" like "driving without a shirt on" and "ripping off mattress tags". And your shoes smell like a hypothetical factory that produces odorous bacteria for no other reason than to offend any and everyone around.
Crew socks: You drive a Toyota Camry that you refuse to put any stickers on, have a sensible haircut and balance your checkbook because you like to.
Cashmere socks: You have a valet who dabs away your foot sweat with crisp hundred dollar bills.
Mismatched socks: You were so hungover this morning that it’s possible those might not both be yours.
Knee high socks with shorts: You are unnecessarily concerned about the shape of your tibias, and in an effort to conceal them you only bring on more attention. Or maybe you're emulating your great grandfather, who was about 70 when short socks were invented and consequently never knew they even existed, let alone wore any.
White socks only: You laud Jerry Seinfeld as a fashion icon and really appreciate a good sweatpant.
Black socks only: You like to be ready for any occasion, be it a workout or a funeral.
Hiking socks: You can yodel, and can "easily go 35 days without a shower".
Novelty socks worn under suit: You’re the guy your coworkers avoid meeting at the water cooler because they're too cynical to want to chit chat. You have a unwaveringly sunny disposition, and think everyone should take themselves a little less seriously. You truly believe embroidered pictures of Garfield scarfing down lasagna actually adds much needed levity to budget meetings and makes everyone love to be at work.
Odor-Eaters socks: You know what? Thank you.
Christmas stocking: You've always known you were a bit different than everyone else.
Women’s socks: You are, statistically speaking, a woman.
Sock puppets: You enjoy creating, suffocating and stomping on poor, defenseless creatures.
Non-skid socks: You raided the nurses station before discharging yourself after outpatient surgery.
Socks with garters: You may be a 19th century aristocrat. But, more likely, you've been doing 300 extra calf-raises every afternoon and your socks just can't handle the added girth. So, like a small belt testing its limits on the waist of an Old Country Buffet enthusiast, your sock garters defy physics and keep your anti-cankles covered at the office during the day so you can confidently, and somewhat unironically, wear shorts to the club at night.
Argyle socks: You are PASSIONATE about GOLF. Every minute not thinking about golf is a WASTED minute. You golf EVERY night and ALL weekend because it's a THINKING MAN'S game. It's SOPHISTICATED, yet CUTTHROAT. You never DAWDLE in the locker room CHANGING because you wear your ARGYLE and PLAID and PINK POLO and VISOR to the office and you are READY to TEE OFF.
Socks with holes:
Wearing socks with holes is like eating celery or visiting Phoenix: You can do it, but it's pointless. You need new socks. You need to take off your holey socks, get off the couch, and go to the store. Or, since you're on a computer right this minute
, just click your mouse a couple times
and have them sent right to your door
. Holey socks are gross and literally any kind of sock is better.
You hate having to figure out where the hell your heel is supposed to go in normal, "restrictive" socks.
You’re the real Waldo!
You regard wading as an x-treme sport and have a large collection of waterfall photos.
Toe socks: You. Get the f*@% out of here and never come back.
Ankle socks: You’re a staunch believer in doing “just enough”. (See also: straight C+ average in High School, minimum monthly credit card payments, speed limits.)
Socks with sandals: You’re German. Danke for reading this article.
Flip flop socks: You’re not a ninja, but you think you might be.
All/many of the above:
You're very grateful that the ladies in your laundromat have perfected the "sock ball" footwear folding method. You regularly rotate your collection to ensure even wear across the board. You plan to bequeath your socks to an appreciative friend or family member, except for the pair you'll be buried in. You have a "sock it to me" tattoo on both shins with a little arrow that shows how high your socks should be worn to avoid over-stretching.
Nick Caruso is a self-described sock snob and often asks for socks as gifts. He has one pair of flip flops and never wears them. Sock it to him on Twitter @thenickcaruso.