while you're ahead…

Let’s talk about something frivolous. I’ve done a lot of reading lately for College. Heavy stuff… actually ‘heavy’ is the wrong word… it was more like eye opening reading and what I saw wasn’t pretty… and I’ll have to think about it a little more before starting a conversation on this platform.

In the meantime, if you want to read something that will kick you in the guts and slap you in the face read ‘Citizen’ by Claudia Rankine, I’d like to know what you think.

For now, let’s talk about hand knitted socks and how I’ve solved the problem of the ‘second sock’. If you have never knitted socks, you won’t have come across the ‘second sock’ syndrome but let me tell you… as a flippant first world problem… it’s pretty real. You see, normally, knitting one sock is fun, the yarn is new and you can’t wait to see what it’ll look like finished… the second sock? b.o.r.i.n.g. nothing new about it… an exact copy of the first one and it can be lethal. Second socks have been known to take months, years even.

BUT if you start from the principle that socks don’t need to be the same… you will never EVER have to knit a second sock again. So simple and yet… so clever.

Enter the scrappy socks (which don’t necessarily need to be made out of scraps… but if you do you can give yourself the additionally virtuous/smug ‘no-waste’ badge)…

No 1

No 2

And as a pair…

which I might add doesn’t need to be as such… I will most likely knit another one – No 3 – and randomly pick two mismatched sock from the drawer quickly and without a care in the world.

Who said socks need to match?

Why?

When was that decided?

Matching, schmatching.