The Evolution of My Work Socks

I mentioned a few weeks ago that I got a job (and since then I've obviously begun introducing myself to people as "Kendra B., employee").  Well, last week I had my very first day at this new job.

On Wednesday I looked through my closet and picked out the clothes I was going to wear for my first ever day at work.  The pants and shirt were super easy.  But then I got to my socks.

And there my troubles began.

I’ve mentioned before in this blog that I like colorful, mismatched socks.  To demonstrate this love for unsynchronized stockings, here is a picture of my sock drawer:

I clearly have plenty of socks to choose from.  The problem was that I had no idea whether there was some kind of secret sock policy at my new job that I didn't know about just yet.

The dress code had been explained to me over the phone, and it’s really very relaxed.  We wear jeans and sneakers and the only restrictions I was told about were that nothing could have holes in it, and you're (WEIRDLY) not allowed to wear obscenities scrawled across your chest.

But we’re also supposed to have some semblance of presentability, and I had no idea whether crazy socks just happened to be a SERIOUS SERIOUS offense, dress code-wise.

And so, just to be safe, I scrounged around for my nicest pair of boring solid matching socks for my first day of work.

IMPORTANT NOTICE TO THE VIEWER:  Do not worry!  My pants aren't actually that short.  I used my thinking and realized that if I drew my pants their normal length, you wouldn't be able to actually see my socks, which are the very things I'm trying to show you!  That seemed less than helpful, so I shortened my pants for the purpose of clarity.  If these nerd pants offend your fashion sense, please simply imagine that I am lifting normal-lengthed pants up in the picture above, and in those following.  Thank you for your consideration.  We now return to our regular scheduled programming.

Not surprisingly, at no point in my first day orientation did anybody mention socks (mine or otherwise).  I noted that the dress code was very much geared towards comfort, and even less strict than I had previously assumed, and so the next day I felt comfortable risking some color:

I kept it all matching, though.  It was only my second day, after all.  No need to go crazy just yet.

But by the end of Thursday, I realized that nobody was dwelling upon my choice of sockwear even one quarter as much as I was.  And so I showed up to work on Friday in all of my Happy Sock glory:

I think me and this job are going to get along.