Since when did a piece of tissue paper stuffed inside each new sock become indispensable packaging? And who knew that you could pay £15 for a pair? A racy red isn’t my normal style, but I was told not everyone wore black and that the photos would be dull if I did. The fit was perfect, but for £15 I expected something more; a five-star cocoon rather than a slightly less itchy piece of wool. Perhaps they improve after washing. On which note, a 40C wash has left them a bit bobbly. If you want them to last, make sure you have staff.
£15, johnlewis.com Photograph: Linda Nylind for the Guardian
The stripes are very stripey. Too stripey. Is this the sock a man who has to wear a suit all day would buy to convince everyone that deep down he is quite alternative? Come on, guys! It’s a shame as they are actually quite comfy. If only they were black … But the hallmark of a Wolsey sock, apparently, is the reinforced red stripe along the toe, though I haven’t yet worn these for long enough to test this feature. The real challenge will be to survive my son’s toenails. So maybe this is one for him.
£16, wolsey.com Photograph: Linda Nylind for the Guardian
I can’t lie. Though they are actually very comfortable, I can’t forgive the diamond pattern. I’m told the argyle is very popular with many men, but they look to me just like the kind of socks you would expect to find on the feet of a golf-club bore. Nor did I like the fact that they pulled up to just below the knee. I want a sock that knows its place and bows out a few inches above the ankle rather than one that is trying to become a pair of tights.
From a selection, £12 for two pairs, marksandspencer.com Photograph: Linda Nylind for the Guardian
I could be seriously tempted by the bright blue – a big concession – and these socks actually felt more comfortable than the cashmere. By which I mean I didn’t really notice them once they were on, which is my idea of how a sock should be. The one thing that put me off is the metal stud, proclaiming 'Burlington – The Original'. Why would anyone want branded socks? How needy is that? Get rid of the stud and they could find a place in my sock drawer.
From £9, 020 7493 8442 for stockists Photograph: Linds Nylind for the Guardian
The dark grey was always going to be a good start. And these were – by some distance – my favourite. Understated, comfortable and anonymous. The kind of sock with enough going for it for you to be reminded of its quality when you’re putting it on – it is a 20% cashmere blend – but polite enough to shut up for the rest of the day. Its sizing also helps. Many socks claim to fit sizes 6.5 to 11 and with my feet at the top end of the scale, I often feel the stretch. These come in 8.5 to 11 and there’s no hint of a struggle.
From £16, falke.com Photograph: Linda Nylind for the Guardian
A reminder that you get what you pay for. Even if I’m still not sure whether 'business socks' are meant to be a good or bad thing. This is exactly the kind of sock I normally buy; a cheap and cheerful cotton/wool blend. It doesn’t matter if they get holed or disappear in the wash because that kind of collateral damage is built in to the price. And yet, having been treated to luxury over the past few days, these are suddenly not quite good enough for my feet. Too clingy, too tight. Just wrong. Though no doubt they will seem fine when all my classy socks have gone AWOL.
£5, from gap.eu
Disclaimer: As not modelled by John Crace. His calves are much more muscular Photograph: Linda Nylind for the Guardian
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