Never Look a Gift Sock in the Mouth

We had the good fortune to have some relatives from Japan visit this summer. As is the custom in there, they gave us all of their thank you gifts at the beginning of the stay instead of the end. Along with the welcome assortment of Japanese foods not easily attainable here were individual gifts for each member of my family. Mine were socks, but not just any socks. They were for, lack of a better word, tourist socks.

The first pair feature a classic kabuki face and a split toe. Not the most common men’s sock in North America, but not unfamiliar either in this day and age. My first thought upon receiving them was that I finally had something to wear inside my Japanese work boots (sorry about the blatant blog plug).

It was the second pair that really caught my attention, and it wasn’t the overused image of Hokusai’s famous wave ukiyo-e. They were, in my son’s words, “foot gloves”: thin socks with five little toe slots on them. I don’t know about you, but when I think toe socks, an image of knee high rainbow striped socks for women come to mind. Split toe socks I could understand. Give that big toe some room to breathe and you’ll feel an extra spring in your step, I guarantee you. But five toe socks? I just couldn’t fathom the point of giving each one of those little piggies their own room in the mobile capsule hotels my socks had become.

As skeptical as I was, my parents brought me up right, so I made sure to wear them the very next day to show my appreciation. It took some time to aim each digit into its appropriate hangar, but once on, they weren’t as restrictive as expected. I walked downstairs, had a seat, wiggled my toes and, what can I say but, what a revelation! Freed from the shackles of anonymity, given the chance to, er, stand on their own, they seemed to be singing the praises of their newfound identity.

Exaggeration aside, my toes did feel cooler and drier on their own. Mind you, after a day of wearing them, I was quick to peel them off to enjoy the barefoot pleasures of summer, but not before being converted to value of five toed socks for men. That’s not to say I’ll be running out to buy another pair anytime soon, but they have earned a spot in the sock rotation, well away from my novelty Christmas socks (don’t ask).

Toe Each His Own