A couple of days ago, two nice young men who work in the government building around the corner walked in to browse. One of them, who said he's from a small Ontario town, said he was not worthy of being at my styled shop today, because he was told by a colleague who has all his shirts custom made, that he's wearing the wrong socks. The sock-cop told him socks should always match the pants, so they would not show when the pants are pulled up.
Well, I gave him a piece of my mind, as I'm known to do - basically told him no one (including me) has any right to tell him what to wear, no matter how much they spend on their clothes of think they know everything, and if he's comfortable wearing white socks with his Doc Martin shoes and green jeans, it's his right to do so. I also said that with all due respect to Ontario civil servants, most of them can hardly be considered the best authority on fashion. He liked that.
He loved the python boots I currently have in the window, tried to put them on but couldn't get his foot half way down. His friend had to use brute force to pry the boot off, I couldn't. That tells you how hard he tried to make it fit.
He was sad they were too small, but not sad enough to take my advice and cut his toes, Cinderella's sister's style... He did say however, that had they fit he's wear them to work every day. That he would make each day a 'Runway Day'.
A bit later that day, one of my new 'followers', a lovely opera singer named Rufus Muller (you can read about him in Toronto Star's March 12 Entertainment section), came in to chat and I told him about it. He said in a most charming British accent: "I make a special effort to make my socks match my shirt, no matter how outrageous they are, and they can be quite outrageous indeed".
Now if a stylish opera singer can't make you feel validated, fashion wise, I don't know what can.
I should put a disclaimer here and tell you that personally, I have a sock fetish.
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