Darning socks

So, all this time on trains, I’ve been doing lots of reading. The New York Times. And lots of library books. I should spend more time looking out the window.

Yesterday, I started to darn my socks on the train. It’s a good way to have the seat bench to myself: people see me sewing on ‘smelly’ socks – who would want to sit next to her?!

I have this tendency to wear out a hole in the big toe of my socks. But since the rest of the sock is still serviceable, I don’t want to throw the sock away. I’ve accumulated a dozen of them. So I wear them around the house. But it’s hard to deal with fishing around the sock drawer to find socks-without-holes as opposed to socks-with-holes in the morning. And while I don’t take my shoes off at work, so no one knows I’m wearing holey socks. If I’m visiting someone’s home or in places like Japan, where you’re supposed to take off your shoes, well of couse holey socks would be an embarassment.

My darning is quite crude, I can definitely feel the pinch of the material, like a scar on the knit. And I don’t bother using the same colour darning thread to match the sock’s body, but I do darn on the underside, so it’s not noticeable.

I wonder what other people do with their holey socks? Do they throw them away? Use for cleaning rags? How many people would make sock puppets? How many people even darn their socks anymore?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s