It doesn’t take much to amuse me. Plus, I’m retired. Spending the morning thinking about, taking pictures of, and now writing about my socks does not seem like a completely pitiful waste of time.

I mean, it’s definitely a questionable use of my time, but not a complete waste since I’m entertaining myself and not rummaging around in the kitchen for a snack. That’s how I see it, anyway.

A few months ago I decided I needed some new socks before my then-upcoming trip to Ireland. At the time I hadn’t worn socks since, oh, maybe May because – summer. The collection of socks was even sadder than the piles of bras and underpants that share that drawer space along with old passports and some Dr. Scholl’s orthotics. It’s a deep drawer.

Call me fussy, but I like my socks to, if not match, at least go with what I’m wearing. Since I’d be wearing jeans most of the time, I wanted a few more pairs of blue socks. I checked Target first, but the only blue socks that fit the bill came attached to two other pairs, one gray and one black. I didn’t want or need the other colors. I looked somewhere else – I forget where now – also without luck. So I turned to Amazon. I’m all for supporting our brick-and-mortar stores, but damn if Amazon doesn’t have EVERYTHING YOU EVER COULD WANT. Right? And free two day shipping with Prime! It’s like magic!

And if you’re not paying for Amazon Prime yet, do it now just so you can watch “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.” FABULOUS!

Entering “blue socks” presented me with an astounding array of socks in every shade of blue and in every style from golf socks and knee socks, to special socks for diabetics promising a gentle elasticity that won’t cut off circulation. Solid shades from navy to baby blue were joined by socks featuring blue designs. There were argyle and striped socks; socks with flowers or polka dots; and then there were the novelty socks . . . like the ones I bought, below:

By the time these socks with a “travel design” popped up, I’d probably spent twenty minutes screwing around, perusing multiple screens filled chockablock with pictures of socks. How could I resist? Socks with a TRAVEL DESIGN. How . . . ME! So I ordered some plain navy crew socks from one place and the travel socks from another.

The navy socks showed up at my door two days later but the fancy socks were lagging far behind. In fact, I began to wonder if they’d show up before my trip. They finally arrived in packaging that appeared to have originated overseas. I threw them in the last load of wash I was running before packing, wore them in Ireland, and didn’t really take a good look at my purchase until I’d returned.

These are the oddest socks I’ve ever owned (and I do like a wacky sock). Somewhere in the world, a sock company’s graphic designer thought these odd little pictures embroidered onto aqua knit sock fabric would identify as “travel items” to, presumably, American buyers. Or not. Maybe in Turkey or Uzbekistan or China or wherever they were manufactured, these pictures absolutely imply “travel” and make perfect sense. I thought I’d share some of these with you since, a) As previously mentioned, I am retired and this is something to do this morning, and b) I hope you’ll be as amused and befuddled by these socks as I am. So here goes:

So there you have it. More than you’d ever care to contemplate about my socks. If you have any insights as to what some of these objects may be, feel free to comment here. Please note, also, that I meant no disrespect by mentioning random countries where the socks could have been made. I just was thinking of places far away where we may well have different ideas of what would be needed for a trip. After all , if I designed socks that represented all the things I’d have to pack, I’d need to create a tiny embroidered version of a Vagifem suppository, and I’m sure that would rouse serious confusion, as well.

It’s all relative. If you’re leaving home for the holidays, safe travels to you.