Mismatched Socks

I know how to match socks.  I’m not a moron.  Occasionally I might struggle telling the difference between a navy blue sock and a black one, but that’s only because I’m usually folding clothes in the evening in dim lighting and I’m hurried.  If I were to take the time to lay them all out in bright sunlight I could easily tell them apart.  That being said…

If you were to run into my daughter on any given day and ask to see her socks, you would most assuredly walk away from the encounter believing that I was completely color blind and prone to not be able to see patterns.  My daughter takes the socks that I have matched, unfolds them and pairs them with a different sock.  She UN-matches her socks on purpose!

And the phenomenon doesn’t stop at socks. She will purposefully wear patterns and colors that clash because evidentially, clashing is the new matching.  Gasp!  I don’t know how to process this.  It goes against everything I’ve been taught…it literally unravels my upbringing. 

We had rules: 

White was forbidden after the beginning of September.

It was a rule and you had to remember!

That meant no white shoes, no white shorts,

no white skirts, pants or skorts. 

Plaids and stripes were kept far apart

You could not wear polka-dots

If you were wearing hearts.

You never put navy next to black

It would surely give mother a heart attack!

Never ever, never on the same day

Might you wear brown and wear gray.

Your purse matched your shoes,

your gloves and your hat

If it didn’t there was something wrong about that!

We never mixed shades like light blue with dark

Our colors were blended like a work of art.

Socks that were argyle came up to our knee

And were worn with a solid kulat, you see.

Satin and Corduroy could never touch

because textures mattered and mattered much!

Clothing had rules with every season

and we obeyed them without reason. ~

 

Well… until the mid-80’s.  J

Now, I look at my daughter and the freedom she expresses with every mismatched sock and neon flavored outfit and I can’t help but smile.  See…even though we had rules, I remember the mid- 80’s when, for a time, all of those rules sort of flew out of the window.  I went through a phase of Madonna-like expression with leather and lace…but my socks always matched.  ~