My daily sock dilemma

For Christmas my wife’s sister bought me a pack of socks. As sisters-in-law do. Seven pairs. Black.

As it happens, black is my favourite sock colour. Unfortunately, each pair also sports patches of garish hue on the heel and toe. Even worse, each pair also has a day of the week embroidered twice on the sole in a bright contrasting colour.

Naturally, I thanked my sister-in-law profusely, while regretting that I lacked the courage to ask whether: (a) she has appalling taste; (b) she thinks I have appalling taste; (c) she intended the gift as a joke; or (d) she is mad.

But weighing up the pros and cons of the situation, I had to admit that: (a) the socks are comfortable and of good quality, as novelty socks go; (b) their embarrassing features are safely hidden from sight during normal use; and (c) I have an aversion to wasting anything of practical value. So I have actually started wearing the things. You heard it here first.

Each morning I have to be sure that my schedule for the day does not involve any situation in which I might need to remove my outer footwear to disclose my folly. Luckily my normal routines do not involve visits to shoe shops, swimming pools, airport security checks, mosques or podiatrists. I also find myself driving extra carefully to reduce the risk of unexpectedly having to remove my shoes in a visit to an accident and emergency unit.

And of course, even though I do not expect anyone to witness the wording on my socks, each morning I find myself compelled to pick out the pair appropriate for the day. It would be embarrassing enough to have to expose my icky hosiery, but it would be mortifying to be forced to disclose socks labelled with the wrong day of the week.

So I look forward to the day when the socks are worn out and I can bin them without guilt.