I knitted nine pairs of fine wool socks in a variety of colours last years. Together with a few pairs from other sources, this is enough for sock-sufficiency. I can’t remember the last time I wore a pair of cotton socks.

The yarn for the pink ones at the top of the pile was a bit of a wild card. It looked different in the photo – the yellows and whites were more prominent – and when I saw it in reality, I wasn’t even sure if I’d use the yarn at all. On a whim I still knitted up a pair of socks, because why not. Now they’re one of my favourites. Well, many of them are my favourites, but the pink ones are my happy socks. They look like candy, I thought at first, but I’m not that much into candy really. So now I think of them as the colour of summer flowers – dahlias and cosmos.

The diseased tiger socks are still weird but they’ve grown on me as well.

There’s still room for more. I wouldn’t mind a few more variegated yarns, and a proper red. Maybe a pure orange as well. I had my eyes on some beautiful hand-dyed yarns on Instagram but then I realized that they’re all made in Britain. With Brexit, I’d get hit with VAT and customs fees and what not, and the yarns are not worth that. Damn Brits and their silly Brexit.