The Pair I Shouldn’t Have Worn That Day

There are some days when I get dressed without thinking, and then halfway through the day I realize I’ve made a mistake. The kind of mistake that gets attention.

That morning, I grabbed a pair of socks I hadn’t worn in forever. They were soft, fitted just right, a little thinner than usual. I didn’t plan for anyone to notice them, but they made my shoes feel different, lighter somehow. By the time I was out the door, I could already tell they’d cling to every step I took.

It wasn’t until later, when I was out running errands, that I caught the first look. That quick flicker of someone’s eyes when I crossed my legs or leaned down to grab something. I tried to ignore it, but it happened again, and again. I knew exactly what they were looking at.

By the afternoon, those socks had been through everything: the walk to the store, the heat of the car, hours of movement. They had that kind of lived-in warmth you can’t fake. Every step felt heavier, slower, almost deliberate. I remember thinking how I shouldn’t have worn that pair, how it was drawing more attention than I meant to.

But deep down, I didn’t really mind. There’s something about being aware of it, knowing that someone’s imagination is running wild over something so simple.

And when I finally got home, slipped them off, and felt how warm they’d become, I smiled to myself. Some mistakes are worth repeating.