Fashion and I have had a rather fraught relationship over the years. As a teen, I was the weird one in glasses who was always...reading. Even had I been interested in keeping up with the latest fashions (and had the money to do so), I doubt it would have been practical. I bicycled or walked to school and to work after, and Maine is not a terrific climate for fashion, even if my tastes had not run more to the outdoors.
Fortunately, my mom wasn't extremely bothered by this, though there were occasional stabs at trying to make me look like a girl- a shirt with ruffles (I objected on principle, but actually liked the blouse after she sewed it), and a succession of Easter dresses that were worn to church once and then buried in the closet. (But they all got a second chance when I got my first job after college and suddenly needed a business wardrobe.)
Where I'm going with this, is that I'm not altogether sure that the fan lace socks aren't a bit too...snazzy? upscale? perhaps even- elegant? for my normal wardrobe.
And lest you think I'm fooling, there are indeed two:
Do you know how hard it is to take a picture of both of your own feet at the same time? Well, you're knitters, so quite possibly you do. But I digress.
These are socks that call for polished low-cut shoes, and cropped linen pants. Or possibly sandals and a calf-length skirt. I'm more a polar fleece and hiking boots kind of gal. Even in the summer, my biggest fashion decision on a Saturday morning is whether I need to wear something that I won't care about if it gets covered in polyurethane. (I may be casual, but I *do* have standards. No large holes or paint stains on clothes I wear to work, for example.)
And while I could dredge out a skirt and shoes from the back of my closet, I'm certainly not going to wear them out to a maple-drenched brunch at the North Hadley Sugar Shack tomorrow morning. The forecast is for 34 degrees and sleet. Of course I *could* wait for warmer weather.
But maybe I'll just wear my newest jeans.