Let me tell you about my sock collection. I started this in 1977, when I went to secondary school. I now have 5672 pairs of socks and 389 single socks. Some are new some have been worn. Some are clean, others are not. Most are mine, some are bought, some found. None however, are stolen.
I have plain socks, patterned socks, towelling socks, wool socks, short socks, long socks and even a pair of disposable socks I was given on a flight from London Heathrow to Singapore Changi on 30 December 1981.
My favourite sock is the one I found in Leicester Square on 15 July 1991.
It's an adult sock, size 7 1/2 (I think) and is black. It's a poly-cotton towelling fabric with a purple zig-zag patternd across the top. I like it purely because I like the colour purple. Not the film, but the colour.
It makes me feel all happy inside. When I see purple things, I want to burst into song wherever I am, which is a little awkward in church. It was especially so last weekend when I went to my Aunt's funeral. The vicar had a purple sash and I couldn't help but burst into a rendition of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah". But I digress. So there I was, on a rather dull day in London, with a single sock in my hand. I must say, it may have been drizzling, but in my heart, the sun was shining, it was a glorious day. Never before had I felt so euphoric when coming across a single foot garment. Now, if you're talking about pairs of socks, then that's a different story. My favourite pair of socks was one given to me by a girl I spent one night with in 1997. She wore them in bed and in the morning I begged her to give me her socks. To be honest, I think she was pleased to see the back of me. You see, the night before, I needed to caress them in order to "get there", but get there I did. The only awkward thing was, she was wearing them at the time. So there I was, with her feet around my ears, trying desperately to stroke her socks, while belting out "Rock Me Amadeus" (She had a purple picture on the wall above the bed) and all the while next door were banging on the wall (she lived in a bed-sit) shouting at me to shut up. So I was dead chuffed she decided to give them to me. It didn't even dampen my spirit when she slammed the door after me.
It takes up a lot of my time this sock collection. And I'm a bit worried about who will look after it when I'm dead, as my son seems less than enthralled when I mention it to him. I've taught him about fabric care, you know, keeping them dust and damp-free (they're in sealed transparent plastic bags(the sort with a seal along the top). I buy them from Tesco and they're meant for sandwiches, I think. Medium, they are and I think they cost 2.49, but I've forgotten how many you get in a pack.