Perhaps its the never ending drone of the vuvuzuelas, or maybe it's the fact that it is Father's Day today (happy Father's Day, dads!) -- but I am compelled to tell you all about black socks.
I received a pitch a few days ago from a company called, you guessed it, blacksocks.com. I was about to delete it when I read this line, "the target Blacksocks demographic is any man who's looked down to find his toe yawning out of a hole in his sock."
I thought that was charming, and well, I know of a certain SOMEONE who fits that description so I checked out their site. Sure enough they sell socks. Black ones.
I love the simplicity of that business model. There's something to be said for having a laser-like focus.
Anyways, Father's Day = black socks in my mind, apparently.
I did take them up on their offer to send me, or rather, the man with the yawning socks in my household, a pair of socks.
They came the next day.
They were Italian made.
They were black.
He loved them. Because he always needs black socks.