“No matter how carefully I sort my socks, whenever I do my laundry there are always some missing. It seems to be a law of physics.” — Andy Warhol
Funny to think even the rich and famous lose their socks in the wash.
I have three plastic grocery bags full of mismatched socks. What happened to their mates? It’s indeed a mystery. Some I do know developed holes, and I tossed them. Some the dog got to — and I mean really got to, not just chewed holes in — and no amount of washing would convince me to keep them. But most have just plain vanished in the wash.
In the WikiHow online article “How to Avoid Losing Socks in the Washing Machine,” step four offers one suggestion as to the whereabouts of our prodigal stockings. Perhaps something happened on the journey from the drier to the sock drawer.
“They can easily fall from the laundry basket and be whisked away by static electricity,” the article says. “Keep socks in the middle of the pile so they don’t escape.” Sounds reasonable.
Do you throw away a sock’s mate when one disappears? I can’t bring myself to do it. Why throw away a perfectly good, sometimes lovely, piece of hosiery?
In the children’s book “The Wonderful Pigs of Jillian Jiggs,” by Phoebe Gilman, Jillian makes adorable stuffed pigs out of things she finds around her house. Years ago, we took her inspiration and made two sock pigs. Two. With that in mind, I have kept quite a few — dozens, maybe — of my prettiest socks after they developed holes. Will I ever make pigs with them? Maybe. Probably. I might! Don’t judge.
Did you know that in China there is a city nicknamed Sock City? It is No. 1 in sock production worldwide. Currently, it produces 8 billion socks each year, just in that city.
Two years ago, our washer and dryer died within a few months of each other. Dirk, of course, attempted to repair them, and while he had them upside down and inside out, I scoured the insides of those sock-eating machines.
I’m not embarrassed to confess that I approached the task with eager anticipation. I was sure I’d find at least a few of our missing footwear, maybe a hidden treasure trove of hosiery. No such luck! Not a single footie. So where are they? We’re no closer to answers, and the mystery remains.
It must be stressful for a sock — if it had feelings, of course — to go into the laundry, not knowing if this is the day it will go the way of all lost socks. I wonder if they have theories where they go. Or maybe laundry day is exciting, wondering if this is will be the time it won’t come out. Extreme sports for socks.
One current stroke of luck: For the past couple of years, my teenage girls have loved wearing mismatched socks. While there are limits to their mismatchedness — can’t wear a footie sock with a knee high, for example — it’s been a bit liberating to just give up trying to find a match and put the pink-striped sock with the purple floral. Liberating, but not easy. I have to tell myself as I’m bringing the socks together as a couple, that it’s alright. Two lonely socks, with months of use left in them, their paths crossing for one crazy, rule-breaking day.
Who knew socks could be so exciting?
— Check out more from Denise Roundy at thetreesandi.blogspot.com. Contact her at dirkroundy@yahoo.com.
