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Archive for December 6th, 2008

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I imagine that at some point, those cavemen decided that their feet and frostbite and all that, needed some covering and they whipped up some feet buntings from the skins of some wooly animal that ventured into their caves. After butchering, skinning and eating the creatures, they made socks, scarves, and condoms from the skins.

If I were really really good, I would invent socks for kids that have no line. Are you a parent? If so, you remember “the line”. It never fails, you get the sock on the kid, put their shoes on, tie them, and they start walking and then perhaps a whine, a scream…”THE LINE! THE LINE!”

And the shoe comes off and more time is spent readjusting the line.

If seamless pantyhose were such a major thing for women, why hasn’t anyone made it mainstream to make seamless socks that I can find at Target, for my “ever-so-picky-about-how-socks-feel” kids.

One of my early memories of annoying socks was when we wore knee socks to school. It drove me nuts after I cranked them up above my knees with full force and eventually the elastic stretched and I was walking around at the end of the day with wrinkled elephant ankles and chilly legs. Even worse, when my mother bought us wool knickers, the kind that go down to mid-calf (nowadays we call these “capris”) the idea was to pull the socks up underneath the knickers and we looked like little page boys, in our wool knickers. The problem was, the knee socks would slide down to my ankles and I was left with the bottom of the wool knickers, rubbing and itching on my legs. 

Let me say it again.

“Wool Knickers”.

No good.

In my panty hose days (I seem to think, we all did have those at one point in our lives), I remember commuting on the train at the end of the day and feeling like my crotch was at my knees. I felt like I was wearing a diaper, waddling around, hoping they wouldn’t just split right then and there. Or hoping they wouldn’t fall to my ankles in the middle of South Station in Boston while I waited for my train to go home at the end of the night.

Back in those days, I was grateful when the dress in the corporate world changed to “business casual”. I haven’t worn pantyhose since.

You wondered if I would go back to the “condoms” mention that I slid in there at the beginning. I’ll never forget when I was a kid and read in a sex book (once I discovered how to use the card catalog at the library, I was looking up all sorts of stuff) that early on, condoms were made of cardboard lined with lambswool. I often wondered who got the lambswool side. Was it the guy or the girl? Was the wool on the outside or the inside of the condom? The thought of cavemen skinning animals and perhaps using hide as a condom, has struck into my imagination. I have no idea if they even tried not to get preggers back in those days, if they even knew what it was that made a woman get that darn baby inside.  But I imagine if they did, they used animal skins. I mean, why not? You cover your feet? Your body from the cold? Why not “down there”. Of course, I never read in any prehistoric books, mention of families  with millions of tots running around, so I tend to think that they had some secret to birth control.

And socks. Well, I am grateful J is not one of those kinds of guys to keep his socks on when we’re in bed. There is nothing dorkier and uncomfortable or non-sexy about wearing just socks when being intimate. 

Take note, people.

No socks.

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