Some people dump awful jobs to start businesses. Others go vegan or climb a mountain.
I changed my socks.
Seriously. I changed socks.
For years, I wore one kind: black. They drew no attention. They were easy to sort after washing. And they fit my bland and style-less style.
A decade ago, I bought red socks for a workplace promotion that required me to don a turkey costume (a tale for another day). I wore them exactly once, then placed them in my sock drawer, where they stayed, a taunting flash of crimson against an expanse of black.
Until recently. Prodded by craziness or whimsy, I paused one morning at the sock drawer.
“What the hell,” I thought.
It was my mountaintop moment, a change that upended decades of sleepy morning behavior. And now I have socks in red – and in turquoise, in maroon, in whacky combinations of orange and blue and yellow and more.
Flashy socks are a mighty small mountain, a teensy blip of sartorial silliness. But that’s how this turkey treads – first one foot, then the other.
Lots more about socks
Professor Socks schools the rube
Clearly you are a fashion maven, Jeff.
Hahaha, Darlene!
Sometimes small changes can make a huge (and fun!) difference. Congrats on the new sock collection.
Thanks, Pennie!