When you’re a kid, there’s nothing worse than opening a pretty, wrapped box only to find socks. I mean, you know deep down that they’re under the tree because you got them last year, and the year before, and the year before that from your grandmother or your mom or, even worse, SANTA. Yeah, Santa bringing socks was the worst.
Fast forward to adulthood, and I challenge you to find a person who doesn’t think socks are the greatest gift of all. Why the change of heart? I think it’s because as adults we think of socks differently: they’re practical, relatively inexpensive (some of them, at least) and when you need just one more little gift? Well, socks fit the bill.
Socks these days aren’t the ones grandma gifted. Today we can choose from funny socks, colorful socks, sock-of-the-month club, socks for special occasions, cotton socks, wool socks, athletic socks, no-show socks, dress socks, knee socks, and my grandfather’s favorite, nylon socks.
I remained a skeptic until recently, when in a white elephant gift exchange my low number two meant that I came home not with the cute earrings or box of spices (a seriously underrated gift) but a pair of grey Smartwool socks. While everyone oohhed and aahhed, I knew for a fact that no one was stealing my gift. I figured I’d just pass them on to someone I knew who skied, or snow-shoed, or lived in Canada.
But then it snowed 10 inches and we had to shovel our 80-foot driveway. The socks I usually wore with my boots were in the wash, so I cut the tags off my new gray Smartwool socks and put them on.
I’d never felt anything like them.
While the outside felt scratchy, the inside was smooth like flannel. They fit perfectly — not too tight, not too loose — and boy, were my feet toasty. I shoveled and shoveled, and then I had an epiphany: “My whole family needs these!”
Now I’m 100 percent on the socks-as-gift bandwagon. These days, I gift fuzzy socks to my daughter and her friends, and white Nike socks to my son. I bought my husband his own Smartwools, and two more pairs for myself. My parents each have a cozy pair of socks from their alma mater, and we always buy my dad socks from places we travel.
Does Santa wear socks? Maybe this year, instead of cookies, we’ll leave him a Smartwool pair of his own.