The other day I was scrolling through e-bay in search of some seamless socks for my 5 year old. He’s been testing my patience lately by protesting daily that every single pair of socks he owns has a bump in the seam that’s invisible to my naked eye. It’s like ‘The Princess and the Pea’ (did she have sensory problems too?) but a male version (The boy and the bump?). ‘They still feel bumpy!’, he cries, as I turn out the 10th pair of socks every morning, before I eventually have a nervous breakdown.
Frustrated, I’d turned to e-bay in search of those without seams, but half way through my search I stumbled across someone selling worn socks. ‘Who in their right bloody mind would want to buy worn socks?’ I asked hubby, and himself, not really being a man of the world, just shrugged.
So I clicked on the selling page, and no shit -there was quite a trend: worn socks after worn socks for sale, being modelled by someone’s foot on the bed: the starting bid at auctions was for a couple of quid a pair. The worn socks that were showing a bit of toe were actually gaining some bids.
Fingers poised over my laptop, my google research soon told that technically, you’re not allowed to sell to a ‘fetish market’ on ebay (Whhhaaaaattt?), but that if you play by their rules and pretend that you’re not really selling to a fetish market, then you actually can.
Well I bloody never.
‘Ha, I bet I could make a living doing this’, I said to hubster, who was lying on the couch in his lounge pants and his trainers socks (currently sporting holes in the big toes). He eyed me back nervously’ ‘What?’, I said. ‘Imagine how many My Little Ponies I could buy for Child number 1 for Christmas…I could have them bought and wrapped with a red shiny ribbon before you even have time to say ‘Sniff my old worn smelly socks, foot fetish peeps’.
‘Er, no Mel. Just no’, he warned, through my hysterics.
Spoilsport. He could have gone without, the miser. All the young hot guys are going sockless these days. It’s the fashion, didn’t he know. Probably not.
Anyways, I digress. I got the sensory socks I needed (6 quid a bloody pair -you could make a living selling these as well), but whilst I was there, I figured, as hubsters socks were always a bit holey and also he had loads of odd socks from the wash (Why are there always odd socks left? What happens when you wash them? Where do the other missing socks go?), I’d buy him some new ones aswell.
So I typed in ‘Men’s socks’ and it comes up with ‘Shop by main colour’ with a selection of colours to choose from.
Hubsters sock drawer consists of black or grey socks. That’s it. They suit his inability to colour match. (Mine are pink and blue and spotty and stripy and to be fair, they are a bugger to pair up after a wash). And not only was there a colour selection, but there were so many types: trainer liner socks, construction socks, hardwearing work socks, thermal socks, slipper socks, designer socks, “Captain America with Shield’ adult men socks. Bugger it, I’ll go for black cotton socks.
One week later.
‘Hey, Mel. You seen my trainer socks..?’.
Uh. Oh. Hmmm. ‘They had holes in the toes’, I said sheepishly. ‘So I got you some new ones’.
‘Oh. Ok. What did you do with my old ones…?’
Ok, Ok, I binned them. I chickened out. I wasn’t brave enough to enter the world of the worn sock seller. Damm! Looks like I’ll just have carry on working to buy those My Little Ponies after all.
Although recently, I’ve discovered these…
Meet the Bronies: The adult men who like My Little Pony
(It’s a miracle I got any work done today after spending my time on Google checking these guys out! ) But hey, I;ve been inspired again. Maybe, when Child Number 1 gets bored of her My Little Ponies, I might just know a few guys who I could sell them too….