We all make stupid purchases from time to time and so I made one this Christmas. I bought Bombas socks.
Bombas socks advertises itself as the maker of the best socks ever. I first saw the ad on Facebook. And then I saw it again and again, advertising “amazing” socks and “the most comfortable socks ever.” The socks were hideously expensive, $80 for 6 pack, but that’s because they would also donate socks to charity. It was close to Christmas and somehow I decided to buy everyone in the family a pack of these expensive socks.
When Gordon was in the service, they used to do field exercises. One particular field exercise took place in winter, just before Christmas. It was bitterly cold. My husband lived for a month in a tent, cold, tired, hungry, with a coal stove for warmth and only a radio for entertainment during long night watches. The radio played local commercials, specifically one for the jeweler store in town, who advertised that diamond was still a woman’s best friend.
I am not a jewelry person. Don’t get me wrong – I like it and I like to wear it, but aside from my wedding ring and a necklace that was an anniversary present, all of my jewelry is cosmetic. If it says “lab-made gemstone,” I’m so there, because nobody died digging it up. Anyway, so just before Christmas, my husband comes home. I meet him at the door. He is carrying an enormous rucksack filled with like 80 lbs of equipment, his face is covered with dirt and coal dust. He looks me straight in the eye and the first words out of his mouth are, “Honey, would you like a diamond for Christmas?”
Bombas socks were my diamond, except that nobody talked me out of this purchase. The ads brainwashed me into a temporary insanity. Before I knew it, I spent $320 on socks. Why would you even buy socks for Christmas unless the person requested socks or loves them beyond all reason? Christmas is supposed to be about fun gifts.
Predictably, Bombas socks didn’t turn out to be any better than regular socks. There is only so much improvement that can be done to a piece of fabric that fits over your feet. It is now six months later and the thing that always happens with socks happened. I am a proud owner of four Bombas socks. None of them match.
You know what perfect socks are? Plain white socks. Because you can match them easily.
Last night I put the four mismatched socks into the drawer, because they are too damn expensive to just toss. But if their matches don’t magically materialize during the next laundry batch, I am throwing them out and buying normal socks. For a fraction of the price.
As an aside, I told this story to a certain friend who writes vampire novels and she said, “Oh I wasted money on expensive socks before.”
She: Well, you know it gets cold here, so I need soft fuzzy socks.
Me: In Florida? You need fuzzy socks in Florida?
She: It gets cold. I will find it for you. Where is that order? five minutes later, after the order couldn’t be found and it was determined that the socks in question are not labeled. Ha! I found it! The World’s Softest Socks, classic.
Me: Your socks are only $12.49 a pair. How many did you buy?
She: A pair. They were more expensive in winter.
Me: Sure, they were.
She: No, really! I wasted money on these socks!
Despite this fishy story about ravages of freezing winters in Florida and overspending on socks, I still reign supreme. Me and my sock purchase. Argh.
Your turn. What is the stupidest thing you bought recently?