Pas de Chat

I have come to the realization that writing is a full time occupation. That seems obvious, but I always thought that I would have time to whip out a line or two. My new employment sees me keeping company with the clouds twenty floors above the city sidewalk cacophony on Park Avenue with a view of the Chrysler Building. Coincidentally, my eldest brother worked at the Chrysler a lifetime ago as a young twenty-something when New York City was a rougher town. Sadly, those grittier city days seem to be returning under the incompetence and corruption of the current administration. But as I loathe political talk, I will speak no more about this. It is an odd thing being the ‘new girl’ at my age, but I am learning a lot and enjoying my job. There is a constant flood of emails that need answering and so, there is no time for the poetry to blossom or write blog entries. Quiet hours allow the threads of thoughts to play and weave a web or two. In due course there will be time for both work and play.

So while my latest infatuation is Belle’s cuff earring, until I secure a pair, I can only dream of a pair of magical ‘beasts’ for my earlobes. (photo credit: Popsugar)

In the interim, let’s talk socks. Nothing says well-dressed and good taste than whimsically clad toes. Socks become the canvas of ‘spotted dogs on a field of blue,’ or ‘lady bugs climbing on green knee highs,’ or arabesque designs called Kirby care of Happy Socks. The great go-to-fun socks are stripes or polka dots. Fun socks create a playful mood that keeps the day cheery. Sometimes my socks remain hidden under long pants all day. They make an appearance when I do my “Mr. Rogers moment” at the top and end of my work day when I change between my Cole Haan (CH) street shoes and my CH office ballet flats. I am not sure where the root of my love of fun, colorful socks lies because my clothes tend to be black, navy, and grey; although I have recently fallen in love with green, mostly emerald or hunter shades. I wore a uniform all through high school. Navy or maroon cable socks were the only socks in my drawers. While the school socks were comfortable, they were a tad dull or maybe predictable is a better word. There were two exceptions to my school socks that I remember. The first exception was my First Communion white knee high socks from Ireland. I loved the holes and interesting pattern. The second exception was a pair of low white frilly socks that I wore with Chinese slippers to Washington, D.C when I was 12 years old. I am sure that there were others, but these two pairs are the easiest to remember because they live in faded photographs from these moments of my youth. Somewhere along the way sister and I discovered flower socks and the love affair with fun footwear began. Probably my favorite hosiery of all time is a pair of black opaque tights that I bought on my first trip to Paris. The tights had circus performers on them and were very Georges Seurat in style. Worn out with love and now a distant memory, those tights remain my favorite of all time.

My preoccupation with whimsical socks these days is what I term Hunter 2.0. Do you remember my blog on Hunter boots and my long rambling on the question of sizing? Would you believe it if I told you that I can fit a size 6? Long story short, on rainy days, my sister is wearing the Hunter greens and I am sporting a pink pair of Hunter boots. Essential to the comfort of Hunter boots is great, fun knee high socks, albeit sunflowers on a canvas of black, or a black cat pawing at a goldfish, or pussy willow cats purring on pink. For the record, I am not a cat lady, but felines are the masters of happy feet. Whatever your fancy, choose a pair to make jete’ing through your day happier.

Final word, the weather is turning colder and my happy socks will sit patiently in my sock drawer for milder weather as I will be sporting stirrup tights with my well-worn green Uggs. I am in the hunt for a new pair of Uggs, and like socks, color or some adornment is key to great pair of boots. In all fairness, the warmth of Uggs is the most critical criteria, but why wear black when you can wear port or at the least, bows? Consider me in Bailey Bows Tall II.