The Worst Time To Fail

As anyone who lives in the Northeast knows, there is a list of items where it is better to know someone who owns one and is willing to let you occasionally use it instead of buying it yourself. Let someone else go through the hassle of ownership while you get the payoff once or twice a year. Most of the items on this list are weather-related, because a harsh winter and soggy spring make them not worth the money. As of right now, the list looks a little something like this: motorcycle, pool, boat/jet ski, beach house (dammit!) and convertible. (Feel free to shout out any more that you can think of.) Essentially, they only come in handy 10-15 days of the year and the rest of the time they sit in storage, collecting dust. And, while not as expensive, when you live in cold weather states there is also the issue of warm-weather specific clothing, which is what I want to talk about now.

I've never been able to fully grasp the people who actually take the time to pack seasonal clothes away. I guess because I don't diversify my wardrobe that much I am not worried about creating enough storage space. From the waist up I'm wearing the same 20 shirts if it's January of August, so it's not like I have to worry about finding space for my sweatshirts in my closet. In fact, the only place this does cause an issue is my sock drawer.

I wrote about this a couple years ago, but I think I go through socks faster than the average person. Part of this is because if I ever buy the high socks I can't stand it when they slide down to my ankles and feeling like I've got very short leg-warmers on. As such I'm always pulling them as high as they go. This either leads to the seam at the toes breaking or the elastic at the top giving out from trying to stretch around my massive calves. The simple solution was to just buy the mid-ankle socks and not worry about all the extra fabric. That worked for a while when I was a high-tops-only guy, but about three years ago I switched to wearing low-top running sneakers and haven't looked back. This caused my first-ever encounter with clothes that can only be worn during a specific weather pattern - ankle socks.

For those of you who might not own a pair, these are the socks that barely reach your ankles and make it look like you aren't even wearing socks when you've got sneakers on. They're great for the summer months and leave no tan-lines (which is apparently an issue to some), but they are utterly useless in the winter. I bought my first pair two summer ago and everything was fine until the first time I put them on under my boots. It took me about four seconds to realise these weren't going to work around snow. So, they sat at the back of my sock drawer, taking up room, never being used and I came to resent them. This winter got a little better when I started using them under my thicker socks every time I went to shovel. Still, they were clearly not pulling their weight. Therefore, when I noticed the heels one one pair starting to fray, I was actually pleased to have a reason to get rid of them.

But, wouldn't you know it, they held out longer than expected and didn't finally give out until the other day, right when it's back to the warm weather. Ain't it always the way? You vow that as soon you get the chance you are going to get rid of something that only comes in handy once or twice a year, but then it breaks right before the time of the year you would actually use it. This will of course lead me to contemplate buying another pair before the summer ends, starting the cycle all over again. I guess I should just be happy it was only my socks and not the air conditioning in my truck. If that happens, expect a lot more expletive-filled post.