Roland decided at the tender age of 35 it was time to make a statement. He wanted to express himself in a subtle manner, so he chose to make a statement with his socks. He began by varying the color, then by adding patterns. Zig zag, pinto pony, rainbow, fades. While sitting, he made sure to lift his pant leg slightly and perch one ankle over the other, to make sure his statement could be seen and appreciated.
Soon he began wearing socks with images. Panda bears, ivy, Humphrey Bogart, water towers, palm trees, it didn’t matter as long as they were interpretable, though he never explained what that meant.
After a few months, it wasn’t enough that his statement be seen only while he sat. He shortened his pant legs to give a peek-a-boo view. Then more and again more, until the hem graced his knees and the socks could be seen at all times.
When he sauntered the street, he attracted a certain amount of attention for his efforts. But not enough. He added dimension to his socks by attaching buttons, sequins, feathers, and other geegaws from the craft store. He also added found objects: keys, ribbon swatches, and in some cases other socks, as if stuck on by static cling fresh out of the dryer.
After a few more months, he couldn’t understand why others had not joined him in liberating themselves from their sock limitations, he began to blog. People he knew—and many he didn’t—begged him for sock advice, because after a month of blogging (the equivalent of 3 dog years) he was considered an international expert on sock expression.
By the time Roland was 36, he was a millionaire, and ready to make another statement.