Book review: I have often wondered as I meander along the sunny beaches of my home town Luton in my little white shorts whether it is appropriate to be wearing these thick socks with my sandals. Now thanks to this book I know the answer.
I have also often wondered to myself what socks I should wear when I grace the top quality park-maintained tennis courts of my home town Luton in my white sports t-shirt, white training shoes, white sweatband and little white shorts (not to mention my fancy racquet). And thanks to this book I now know.
What’s more I have also often wondered to myself as I’ve traversed the gold-paved streets in my home town Luton during coldest winter when even the snowmen are going indoors to get out of the cold what socks I should be wearing to compliment my winter costume of polar bear fur hat, coat and little white shorts (made from the polar-bear’s face), and thanks to this book I now know.
Yes, this book has changed my life. Gone are the days when I walked into parties only to be shunned by all and sundry because my novelty Tinky Winky socks were simply not fit for polite society. These days I can stride in with my head held high knowing that, after many hours of deliberation beforehand, my sock game will be top notch and that all the ladies will soon be swarming towards me urgently wanting to hear about how I moved up the sock ranks so quickly to become the true sock aficionado I am today.
True I needed to chuck the kids and wife out to make room for my suddenly expanded sock collection, but that doesn’t matter because I now have the finest merino wool socks money can buy. And even though I had to remortgage the house and max out all my credit cards I know that when I slip my foot into that hand-linked toe sock with the argyle pattern my worries will just slip away.
However there is a part of me that wonders if this book hasn’t just duped me, as if in this book isn't just one big advert for Sock Club London and their cult where anonymous members live by the motto “No apologies, no regrets”. When I think these thoughts I become morose, stop ironing my socks and start throwing them around the room instead before also emptying my sock drawers in a massive rage before breaking down just like a girl wondering just why did I let my wife and children go.
Overall then this is a great book, but please bear in mind the small caveat as mentioned above.
Amazon UK link: Socks: The Rule Book
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