Hello. I’m Chelsea. And, I am a sock-aholic.
It all started when I attended Fred Meyer’s Black Friday Sale. Suddenly, expensively inaccessible footwear was accessible. I can feel my toes twitching even now, just thinking about those boxes and boxes completely full -and at half the price.
They had all wool, cotton with moisture wick, and part spandex thigh-high business casual. They had toe socks (which we webbed-feeters can’t actually wear), nylons in packages instead of eggs, aloe-infused fuzzy cuddlewear, and patterned boot stockings.
I bought a pair of thick, wool hiking socks last time -after selecting sensible white pairs of cotton blend (super soft and stretchy!) for everyday, of course.
When I’m dressing, I reach for the alluring stripes, itching to put them on.
But, no -I bought these to put inside hiking boots. I did not buy them to put inside houses (and, in cars, outside, etc.)
Actually, that’s my other confession: I hurt the socks I love. I frequently take a lovely, thick pair out in the garage or down the street to the neighbor’s.
Most days I’m good, but sometimes the pull is too strong.
Socks speak to my sole.