My Man-Cleavage

Confession of the Sockless...

Today, one of my colleagues had asked me “who are those shoes by?” I told him Luigi Borelli. He told me, “I get it, you spent all your money on the shoes that you couldn’t afford a pair of socks.” I got the urge to say, you mustn’t know too many fashionable good-looking stylish people, but then looking the way you do, tisk tisk tisk.

I have a serious disregard for fat people (not sick ones or big bones kind, but the ones that try to go to the gym but eats Twinkies right after), but more than fat people I hate wearing socks!! With Savoir-vivre class in middle-school, I was thought how eat, talk, walk with perfect precision; I was taught no man of well-upbringing insult someone unintentionally; I was given special instruction on how to treat a lady vs. a woman; but most of all I was thought to dress well. But it’s the English gentleman dressing. Sort of blue fabric always requires brown shoes, never brown with gray, and a white suit requires a blue shirt. But while learning that I also was taught of dandies…the man who lives for clothes, and however it comes with a price of absurdity.

I enjoy following those etiquette I learned in school. But with it I also learned to almost never bare my knees or elbow, unless I am at gym or on swim-suit (I can’t swim that’s out of the question). So you can say I am usually the only person wearing dress pants on the beach with rolled up cuffs showing as little skin as possible. Its fine when I am with my family and closest of family friend because they are almost alike in the philosophy, but now when I affiliate my self with everyday new Yorkers—it doesn’t work. God forbid if I go san-socks, its sort of “doesn’t your feet smell?” well, no, unlike you I follow “some” hygiene behavior. ;) (read what to do so your feet don’t stink )

It is at that moment I built on the dressing style of a dandy. It is the idea of coquette dressing-impression of luxury, showing everything and exudes lust. Only if you look closely the luxury is hidden with elaborate little details, there is almost nothing showing and lust is the same sincere innocent jest you share with your girl friends. Dandy is then an illusion created in your mind. But being a dandy also requires sense of comedy. Not humor, laugher, but comedy. Any one person who can make you laugh with their humor is a funny person; but a comedian makes you laugh with his experiences. Comedy is real living where your disappointment becomes your enlightenment. I am simply saying a dandy, even though appear to have no meaning in life, have found that laugh because no one gets out of this life alive.

I have had people be disgusted by my san-socks behavior. I had people sub their nose for the fear of smell. I have a girl-friend who accuses me of being gay and effeminate. And I even had a person offer me a dollar to buy the sock. (I actually kept it in a frame just to remind me how much it bothers people.) Now I have to admit I am not too sure if I actually care about what these people think. Its sort of my philosophy of getting a Balenciaga sable refers instead of a luscious mink coat. Only few understand the difference.

But knowing all those things, why do I do it? First and foremost it’s comfortable. And I enjoy the touch of soft skin next to my skin; even if it’s from a dead cow…it is the India in me that refuses such luxury. It is the rebel in me saying I care but I don’t care—buy the best shoes but destroy it with moist sweat. It is crazy partier in me who never want be naked with only socks on. It is leisure me almost never doing any hard work so dress slippers were common shoes by the beach or park. And last but not least, I feel sexy when I don’t wear socks because I am almost at all times fully covered.

It’s that maybe, just maybe San socks are not really for everyone. If you are narcissistic type like me, then even the negative attention is good attention. If you are the affluent type who rarely does anything and weekends at East Hampton, you will have avid followers. If you are the dandy type, well it is our cleavage! If women can bare their breast with hard nipples under covers, we can show off our ankles with twinkly feeling on our toe-fingers!