Growing up under the auspices of my parents, i possessed a diverse menagerie of athletic socks, usually acquired piecemeal from the mysterious "Santa Claus" in accordance with Xian tradition. At any given time, a snapshot of said collection of footwear would reveal numerous combinations characterized by age, length, stripe color, and state of dishevelment, with several solitary entities whose partners had long since been lost to history (a phenomenon that has been chronicled by bad stand-up comics everywhere). As a slave to societal conventions dictating that i "match," i reckon i wasted two to three hours a year Sock Wrangling, imperfectly wedding the freshly laundered socks, weeding out aforementioned singletons and those past the age of retirement.
Moreover, the process of maintaining newly arranged marriages was imperfect. I could delicately fold the newlyweds together, a futile act that quickly resulted in divorce once placed in the hedonistic confines of the sock drawer. Alternatively, like the Cathylick Church, i could preclude the possibility of divorce by use of "balling," the added strain and tension stretching the very fabric of the forced marriage's elastic bond, thereby causing Droopy Sock Syndrome.
In college, like so many young adults, i had an epiphany that changed my life. Reviewing the sorted assortment of my motley crew socks, i decided to trash the whole lot of them1...an event that later became known through history as The Great Purge of '95 (aka Dingy Tuesday (*not* "Off-White Wednesday" as others mistakenly believe)). Next, at Target, i purchased a full complement of identical, all-white hosiery (24 crew length, 12 or 18 ankle length). Being identical in age, length, and color, marrying was no longer necessary, and the could now freely intermingle in my sock drawer (later The Sox BoxTM). Now, unless i grab one crew and one ankle, i'm guaranteed a perfect pair every time. Whenever an individual sock becomes unwearable, i can simply toss it without fear of widowing a partner. Moreover, since i take care to stir my Sox BoxTM after each laundering, my hosiery (of a given size) tends to wear out at the same time, allowing me to execute future purges without accidentally discarding younger ones still in decent shape.
You may incorporate my Advanced Hosiery Theory and The Sox BoxTM into your own clothing strategy free of any licensing charges. All i ask is that while efficiently getting dressed each morning, you think of me.
1 I don't actually trash every sock in a purge. Non-holey socks are retired from active service and reserved for special, one-time only situations in which they will be discarded immediately afterwards. For example, i might use them when doing dirty menial labor or use them as my spare pair kept in my car in case of emergencies.