The Tyranny of My Sock Drawer

Tyranny! We are taught to resist it ... at ANY cost.

Yet, virtually all of us have willingly invited it into our own homes.

Within those walls, it lurks, bosses us around every day, offers us untenable choices, plies us with guilt. No, I am not talking about your two year-old-grandchild dropped off for the weekend by your unappreciative son.

It's your sock drawer, silly. There.... lies... sock tyranny!

Go there, to your sock drawer. S-l-o-w-l-y pull the drawer open, and for once, for Godsakes, observe before you stick your hand in there. Proceed.  Very carefully.

Sock drawers– seemingly mundane. Yet, like the most dangerous of things, purposefully designed to lull you into complacency. 

The very chaos of the universe is submerged within its depths. You may be thinking that you know what I am talking about. Trust me, you don't!

We won’t delve into the matter of the clothes dryer devouring your socks, so that you never have a match for your favorites. That's another hell on earth, chaos of the universe, but not the particular rabbit hole I wish to drag you down today.

Rather, it's the chaos of your sock drawer generating from your own heart. This is about your relationship with your socks. And, I’m here to tell you, it's not healthy.

Sockpocalypse

First of all, you have too many danged socks. You may impulse-purchase when you go to Target, or buy three pair of this or that on Amazon when you are really just looking for toothpaste, or save those Christmas socks with the reindeer on them thinking that you will wear them again next year (but never do). 

Maybe you keep a few sensible socks around as an ode to when you used to wear actual slacks and leather shoes to meetings with other folks who also wore sensible socks with leather shoes. No more! 

Yet, there they sit, amassing in quiet rebellion, mating and multiplying like those "Tribbles" in the famous Star Trek episode, "Trouble With Tribbles".  

Much like these endearing creatures, the Van Halen socks, so full of holes that Eddie Van Halen could strut through them while shredding yet another guitar solo, are also adorable to you. 

Or what about the pair of yellow "SpongeBob" socks your kids bought for you in Orlando in 2006. Those are 25 years old, brother. Like you, they ain't getting any younger, but they are, like you, getting ever more droopy.

This is Tyranny. This is Chaos!

The tyranny is never throwing anything out. Never making space for the new.

The chaos is the tyranny of choice. Too many choices, too much to dig through until you find the match for what you are looking for.

Then, there’s the mystery of it all.

The Eternal Optimism of Our Sock Drawers

Why can't we see when something has run its course– that the socks are too tired and old, or that the color is way more garish than we remembered when we purchased it at that Holiday bazaar.

What’s the harm in giving a few pairs away (to the trash bin) if we can bring ourselves to that?

"But they’re my favorite pair!", we plead, to no one in particular. So was that small felt cowboy hat with the string that tied under my chin, when I was six. I did not want to give away that hat, either. 

Yet, they made me give it away, and I was thusly saved from a fashion calamity of my own making. All so that my hat space in my current closet is now occupied, not with little cowboy hats, but dozens of old, worn-out ball caps, bearing logos of bars whose visits linger in the fog of forgotten memories, and sports teams that have since fallen out of favor. But that is another kind of black hole of nostalgia, and I do not wish to digress.

Why can't we give up on the stragglers? The socks with no match? Yes, the ones that the clothes dryer ate, or the gremlins stole, or perhaps even the socks that never had a match, but you just never noticed before. Yes... that's a thing, too. Think about it. 

For some reason, we cling to these lone socks, keeping them in a special part of our sock drawer, with eternal optimism that their estranged counterpart will someday return to the fold. 

On that fated day, you will bond them together again in a kind of matrimony of the feet, as you wear them in pride that you did not give up on them. 

But let’s be honest– that'll never happen. Still, the loners accumulate. Refusing space to your new pairs of socks. Your inability to just let go, is just not right. 

That’s the mystery of it all.

Sock it to Conformity

Another mystery is why we have to wear socks that match at all.  

Yes, I know, certain hipsters, Hollywood celebs, wide receivers for the Indianapolis Colts, and of course, Eddie Van Halen, God rest his soul, did not care for matching pairs of socks. 

It's like that little cowboy hat I mentioned. Only certain men (and six-year-old boys) can wear a cowboy hat and pull it off. 

If you are not one of those people, just don't. Same goes for non-matching pairs of socks. If you are not someone who looks surprisingly hip, perhaps even posh (if non-matching socks are worn with a tuxedo), you had better not try. 

You will just look like a damned fool. And for Godsake, NEVER try to wear a tiny cowboy hat, with string, along with unmatched socks. Unless you are that certain person who just looks good with it. News Flash.... you are not. I know. I tried. And it looked like hell.

By now, you may have reached the same conclusion I have about the tyranny of our sock drawer, and the chaos that lurks within.

So, what can be done to break this tyranny? You could place a limit on how long any one pair of socks could live in your drawer– one to two years, max. Sorta like a block of old gouda cheese in the fridge, or that business card in your desk drawer from the person who you no longer remember. 

Tyranny breaking involves letting go and moving on. But not just the SpongeBob socks– they are still my favorite, and were, after all, a present from my kids, who are now 35 years old and never watch SpongeBob.

And throw out all of these mismatches. If their mate does not show up from behind the washing machine in two weeks, get rid of it. I said that to a girlfriend one time, and for some reason, she went missing and didn’t show back up, either.

How about buying new socks every once in a while? Not as an impulse purchase, or even if you feel you need new socks. But rather, as a quest to always be on the lookout for things you like, things that will make you happy and look good on you (unlike the cowboy hat). Doing things to make your life, the life of others around you, better is the biggest tyranny breaker there is. 

Try it.

But first, dig into that soulless sock drawer of yours and root out the causes of chaos. 

You, and the universe, will be better for it.

© Ray Brimble and stringtheorybyraybrimble.com, 2024. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ray Brimble and stringtheorybyraybrimble.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.