Q. Does anybody else live with a husband, SO or otherwise adult male who simply can't get the hang of turning his socks (and underwear, and t-shirts) right side out before tossing into the laundry hamper?
(A. Does a bear crap in the woods?)
I admit my equally adult response to this is, that while I will turn a t-shirt right side out in order to hang it up, I won't turn the socks and undies. However — putting questions of maturity aside — it turns out that DH's
childish habit has led to the discovery that there is something very interesting about commercially-made men's argyle socks. (Well, OK. Probably only interesting to knitters, but after all, that's why you're here.)
DH recently bought the argyle socks pictured. Of course, they ended up in the hamper inside-out. Not just inside-out, actually — this one was still in a cold, wet ball when it came out of the washer. When that happens, I will go so far as to pull said sock out of the little wad it's in, so it doesn't end up thumping around in the dryer for an hour and come out still wet.
So I'm standing there, looking at the inside of this argyle sock, and it occurs to me that I've never even wondered how they manage to make these socks commercially. After all, handknitting an argyle sock is a heckuva lot of work. You're talking intarsia, charts, probably bobbins — and if you do it traditionally, intarsia has to be done back-and-forth, so there's a seam involved as well.
So how do they manage to do all this in a sock factory?