If we gave them any thought, we didn’t think they were cool. And certainly we wouldn’t have worn them outside of our Junior High Gym class. So I’m not sure why I love them now. But I do! These retro gym socks. Both my friend and I bought two pairs. And it’s not like I feel younger, they aren’t magic socks. I don’t long for the days when the girls had their own pink gym in the basement while the boys used the beautiful gym with the shiny hardwoods and bleachers. (Oh, sure they brought us up once a year to join in the square dancing mini course for a couple of days, but that was not the nod we were looking for.) So why the love? I’m hoping the answer comes as I type. I suppose you could brush it off as nostalgia, but that’s an awfully wide net. Maybe all fashion (and I use the term loosely) comes ‘round again. Maybe everything deserves a second look. We have the choice now, and that could be the difference. We didn’t have the choice then. Cycle days three and five, you raced to the gym and put on your gym clothes for the allotted 45 minutes and then threw them, abandoned them, for the outfit you picked out frantically while the bus was wheeling up your gravel road, and you wore that outfit, however modest, to algebra or social studies, and smoothed down the goucho pants, or Levi’s, and sat proudly in your decision. 

I guess love of any kind can’t be forced. It comes in its time. And really needs no explanation, only joy. So I put on my socks and smile. I text my friend and she has them on too, and we’re giddy as school girls. We’re happy, and we don’t really need to know why.