Textile Texts: How I learned to love ankle-free socks

We live in a time of trigger warnings. From politically incorrect Otto jokes to retraumatizing love lyrics – above all and everyone
warned. And do it carefully and early. I think that’s good. Because if you are not warned in time, it will quickly be too late: then you will already have the images in your head and will no longer be able to get them out. With the help of preventative text panels on television, sensitive introductions at events and bright stickers on book covers, everyone is making sure that I don’t have to deal with anything that could disturb me.

Nobody warns me about other people’s fashionable aberrations. This can also be more than disturbing: a sports student with ankle-free socks walks in front of your lens and you can’t get the images out of your head for the rest of your life. Except maybe with dementia. You are constantly forced to have aesthetic borderline experiences that you could easily have done without. If you had known beforehand what was coming your way, you wouldn’t have left the house at all! Naked men’s ankles in sneakers are like car accidents in the oncoming lane. It would be better not to look. Especially since the child always asks: “Dad, what is that?” That looks terrible!”

I mean: who invents something like that? Ankle-free socks are stockings that negate themselves, that don’t want to be seen, that disappear deep into the shoe and allow themselves to be literally denied by it. Would be ankle-free socks
People would be advised to seek therapy immediately. Making yourself small, wanting to disappear into invisibility and going out into the fresh air as rarely as possible – as an introverted sociophobic with self-esteem problems, that should actually be nice to me. I mean: ankle-free socks are the inferiority complex that has become a textile. That is deeply loving and in need of protection. Then why this aversion?

Maybe because exactly those kinds of people aren’t in these socks. On the contrary. It is sports students, start-up capitalists and FDP sympathizers who think this fashion is good. One could even venture the theory: the more introverted the sock, the more extroverted the wearer. These are people whose egos are so big that they could climb on them and throw themselves into the abyss if they wanted to, which of course they don’t because they are far too self-absorbed for that. You can’t tell from the video, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the luxury Nazis from Sylt were also wearing ankle-free socks.

Even if they are red, there is nothing anti-capitalist about ankle socks. On the contrary: They are like cereal packs that are getting smaller and smaller while the price remains the same. These are ankle-free socks
Deceptive package of the month. Efficiency maximization made from cotton. The capitalist’s savings stocking gets bigger as the consumer’s sock gets shorter. But of course the consumer doesn’t notice any of this. Because at the same time – as always in late capitalism – it is suggested that this is exactly what you need if you want to be successful in this society. How good that Adorno no longer has to experience that. The disciples of the meritocracy are in these socks. Elitist and ignorant men who think their ankles are irresistible.

But then suddenly I see this talk show with this eloquent philosopher who wears ankle-free socks and still says clever things. How can that be? Did the broadcaster force him into the costume in order to maintain the capitalist-ideological delusion? Or are things ultimately more complex than I thought? Nice guy in ankle socks – is that the tolerance for ambiguity everyone always talks about? Maybe you shouldn’t always judge the whole person from the ankle?

I have the feeling that ankle-free socks are a bit like high literature. It can also be disturbing at times. In fact, she should. In text and textile you can see the depths of humanity illuminated without having to experience them in person. Ultimately, I would say the ankle socks actually made me a better person. Dealing with the material (or rather: the absence of it) has broadened my horizons and sharpened my tolerance. Even though I’m really happy that I didn’t have to wear this sock-like aberration of taste myself.

Maybe sometimes you have to confront the things that deeply disturb you in order to evolve a little bit. I think tomorrow I’ll take the risk and – despite all the warnings – finally get the old ones
Watch Otto shows. Cozy on the couch, in my favorite tights.