Wearing odd socks is a bit of a sign; a sign of a number of afflictions one of which could be broadly termed disfunction. Many of us do it anyway, especially when the sock we are looking for just isn't there. The closest "match" will have to do. People will be fooled.
Have you ever heard of odd shoes? Or odd feet? Well I have a pair of the latter. One foot is longer than the other and also more elegant. There have been times - particularly in adolescence - when I have been mortified by this. Most of my life I have kept my feet hidden. Now it doesn't worry me too much. Beauty in all its forms has faded so why worry about the feet?
Yet isn't life ironic? No sooner do I decide not to worry about my mismatched feet, and by extension my mismatched shoes - since two same sized shoes never fit both feet - than I meet a podiatrist who can sell me two different sizes - one shoe that fits one foot and a different sized shoe to fit the other.
I was amazed by the difference between my feet when measured. One foot is wide and size seven; the other is medium width and size seven and a half. And the corresponding odd couple of shoes fit me perfectly - at a price I hasten to add. Only those with modestly good incomes can afford this luxury.
Yes, I guess it's a prerogative of the reasonably well off, but it is interesting to reflect on how deformities know no boundaries. Ordinary or beautiful feet or normal feet cross class and other boundaries. Furthermore if it weren't for the foot conditions suffered by people with diabetes the option of shoes to fit odd feet would not exist at all. So who of us is really odd? Who is really normal?
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