Because they’re the best kind of socks. Socks are for your feet, correct? That’s why I don’t understand why people insist on calling those things that go halfway up your leg socks. Your foot doesn’t go halfway up your leg, so why do you need all that cotton? Wouldn’t leggings be more efficient for what you’re doing? Just wear leggings, people.
So I’m wearing these ankle socks, and I’m presented with what happens to be the one drawback on ankle socks. As I walk around, the socks get super curious about what my toes are doing, and slide down to get a better look. As such, I’m forced to dig around with my fingers and try to pull them back up to proper resting position, chastising them the entire time. Now, don’t be put off by this scenario. Ankle socks are still best socks, and if you find a good pair, you won’t have this problem. What this instance means, is that it is about time to retire my current pair. The entrance is too stretched out from my lazy efforts to place my foot inside, catching the edge with my toes and stubbornly trying to push through anyways. Somehow, I think that if I tug on the sock hard enough, some sort of quantum dematerialization will happen, and my foot will end up in its rightful place. Naturally, this never happens, but I tend to put on socks in the morning, when I’m operating at about 50 IQ points lower than my midday self.
This pair will make it through the day, I’m sure, but I will have to take action. Once I get home, I’ll probably demote this pair to the lowest possible position: the back of the sock drawer, along with the pairs that have a hole in the heel/toe, the one or two pairs of legging socks I unfortunately own, or the mismatched pairs. Basically, emergency usage only status.
Another cool thing about ankle socks is that sometimes, they don’t even show above your shoe, making it seem as if you wearing no socks. As if you’re wearing nothing at all. “Hey baby, I’m naked underneath these shoes.”