The Year of Knitting Socks

I never planned to spend a year knitting 56 pairs of socks, but that’s exactly what I did. And like many of my best ideas— whether in knitting, writing, teaching, or art collecting— the idea sneaked up and grabbed me.

Featured above: Socks photo by Mockup Graphics on Unsplash.

On a January trip to Portland, Oregon, I bought my first sock pattern. I still have it: It is xeroxed on purple paper, both sides, with directions for several sizes of socks and various yarn weights. It is basically “Socks for Dummies” but still my go-to. I bought yarn for one pair of socks and my first set of double-pointed needles. 

Knitting Socks for Others: Sock Families

That first pair, for my husband, flew off the needles. I must have channeled my Oma, who knitted red socks for me every year to wear ice skating. I glanced down at my hands and saw her hands at work, my fingers and knuckles already starting to look like hers. It was exhilarating to see the finished socks on my husband’s feet. The sock is a humble thing, but as Pablo Neruda wrote in his ode to socks: “what is good is doubly good / when it is a matter of two socks / made of wool in winter.” 

I rushed to my local yarn shop for two more skeins of yarn to knit socks for a couple of friends. They were quickly done, and oh so satisfying to send off. Obsessiveness—or call it focus— drove me. After I finished the three pairs, I started socks for another group of friends. 

Then it hit me: I should knit sock “families” and send them as Christmas presents. I knitted pairs for beloved neighbors and their two daughters and two sons-in-law; for my sisters and brother and their respective families; for artists I love; and for former students. I kept adding more names to my list, and I assembled yarns that were color related for each recipient group. While knitting each pair, I thought about the person for whom I was knitting, celebrating our connection. Each stitch was an expression of love. That was the central joy in the knitting.

Yarn School: Learning about Yarns for Sock Knitting

During the year, I had to buy a lot of yarn, so I began my personal “yarn school.” As I sought out yarn stores everywhere I traveled, I learned about yarn: Some yarns were processed to be machine-washable and some were blended with other fibers. I discovered self-striping yarns and cleverly dyed yarns that created patterns that look like Fair Isle. I learned about yarn weights and cheated a few times knitting with bulky yarns. (Two pairs in a week!)  I bought more double-pointed needles. I developed a system for storing needles by size and incorporated the box of needles I inherited from my mother. 

In December, I spread out the finished pairs on our red carpet. My husband photographed them, and we used the image for a card that celebrated the year of knitting socks. It was a year that may have been a bit mad, but was ultimately satisfying. It was a year that raised my knitting knowledge and skill. Most importantly, it was a year of memories and of making. 

DRIEK ZIRINSKY is a knitter, a collector of contemporary art, and emeritus professor of English at Boise State University. Leo the cat helped with this article, as he does with the knitting. 

This article originally appeared in Interweave Knits Gifts 2021.

Socks + Stockings from Interweave Knits Gifts 2021