I can't even ride a horse.

Okay, so I started this blog with the sole intent of saying something meaningful. I wanted to spout my wisdom (from mountaintops, if you will) so that others might benefit from it. From my high and mighty perch atop my high horse on the top of a mountain I had forgotten one, very important thing. Fun socks.

The other day I was in Old Navy checking out the little girls section for XXL clothing at low low prices and I happened upon the the fabled wall of socks. They had fun winter socks in every holiday and secular design that a little girl could ever want. I was "sew heppy!"

I've always loved wearing silly socks. They're my protest against matching. I figure the more hideous my socks are, the less possibility there is that I might coordinate. Some may see this as a bad thing (or a "faux pas"). Personally, I see it as freedom. Even if I wanted to, I could not match my blue and red and pink "smiling and frolicking dogs" socks to any outfit in my wardrobe. Obviously I'm going to wear said socks, therefore I have to free myself of the illusion that matching is important.

How is it possible for the world to require that we coordinate "pieces," yet fun socks also exist? The simultaneous existance of these two things is virtually impossible. I therefore would claim that perfectly coordinated outfits are the fallacy (because the fun socks are a constant).

Really, there's not a lot that makes me happier than wearing a lovely outfit, taking a seat, and seeing that little candy cane stripe peeking out from between my pant leg and my shoe. It screams, "There is individuality! We may dress as we please! Social norms exist only in our minds! We are free!"

Yup...that's what I get out of wearing my fun socks.

In conclusion: I'm generally pretty level headed, but from time to time I can get a bit wrapped up in myself. When that happens, feel free to knock me down from up here.