Socks and the city

Nothing is ever straightforward, is it. Especially when it comes to words. Take the world “adult” for instance; not only does it mean an individual who has passed age-wise beyond adolescence, but it has connotations. “Grown up” as opposed to childish; or erotic, as in the sense of “Adult Shop”.

Another bothersome word is “moquette”. The French original implies a carpet, preferably a fitted one, but the English language has latched on more to the concept of the pile of a carpet or a fabric, and employed the word differently.

Which takes us towards a typically Robagraphic convergence, and to the excellent – although of recent years ever so slightly dumbed down – shop adjoining the London Transport Museum in Covent Garden. This would scarcely qualify as an Adult Shop, being family friendly as it is, although catering also for those (mostly male) who have proudly and quite rightly never grown up. If you read on, however, you will discover that it does supply Adult Material - and not just the merchandise aimed at those who drool uncontrollably over photos of Routemasters, lust after T-shirts saying “Mind the Gap”, or whose testosterone levels are elevated unhealthily by roundels reading “Arnos Grove”. (I know mine are).

Those who travel on the London Underground will know that (a) each line has its own diagrammatic colour (Northern – black ; Piccadilly – dark blue, etc) and (b) that the seat covers have a pattern, distinctive to each tube line, which graphically enlivens their thick-piled, springy, fabric – their moquette. I find it slightly disturbing, even in these eerie times of minimal travel, to think of all those people down there every day sitting on their respectively coloured piles, the designs of which can occasionally be quite angular. No wonder so many of them look unhappy. 

At this point the two themes – Adult and Moquette - combine. I’m not sure to what extent socks contribute to the fetishwear market, but the items shown above are definitely Adult Socks. It says so on the label. I hope you’ve been able to contain yourself. They were bought for me as a Christmas present, but thanks to lockdown and consequent lack of opportunity, remain unsullied and virginal (yes, we really are straying into Adult territory). They are District Line socks, and so they come along in pairs at infrequent intervals. The District Line is diagrammatically colour coded green (the precise shade varies between Turnham, Stepney and Parsons) and the moquette of the socks is evidently, er, not green. Line colour and moquette (though not the socks themselves) are delightfully at odds. That’s exactly how I like it. The left sock I shall name Ealing Bdy and the right one will be called Upminster – unless I mislay it in which case I shall go completely Barking.