Upcycling mismatched socks

My father used to sometimes wear mismatched socks out in public, and when told by someone about them, would reply ”Yes, I know. I have another pair exactly like these at home!"

I choose to wear mismatched socks, because I see no reason to wear matched pairs.
I have never had a problem with socks disappearing, nor not upset because I cant find a match.
Life is a lot easier that way, perhaps try it.
It may be better than Valium!

There are some fun and useful ideas in this link:
https://www.allfreesewing.com/Refashioning-and-Upcycling/Things-To-Do-With-Old-Socks-NSM2020

I'm so glad I found this thread before starting my own inquiry what to do with socks I've decided will never pair back up. Lots of great suggestions from the past!

I am told that at some point in time it was popular for teens to were mismatched sock on purpose.  

I never saw that back then though I saw someone on TV wearing mix matched so the other day so it might still be a thing.

Anne Miller wrote:I am told that at some point in time it was popular for teens to were mismatched sock on purpose.  

My friend needs to wear a compression sock on one leg, and not on the other, so she found pairs that went together colour/style wise and wears mismatched all the time. Works for her!

I now buy about 20 pair of heavy work socks at a time.  They are the same color and design. I don’t worry about matching them.  I have not had the need to dress up for maybe 5 years.

This thread came in my 'daily-ish'. I did not yet read everything. Of course sock-puppets were already mentioned (shown in a photograph), but the 'sock-lady' I made is different ...

Here's Veronica. She was made of one whole sock and one sock with a large hole.
As far as I remember I never lost a sock in the washing machine. Most of my socks I knitted myself and I wash them by hand (because they're wool). I have a few pairs of thinner socks, they go in the laundry, And when they have a hole they are 'upcycled' instead of darned.

The "Door Snake" thread went past recently. It  just occurred to me that if you have a collection of mismatched adult socks, you could stitch them together to make a door snake.

Not sure if I would approach it by stuffing each sock, then stitching them together, or cut the toes off and make a tube first. Opinions anyone?

I tend to only receive holy socks - like John F Dean suggested, my folks tend to buy a bunch of identical socks and not have to worry about matching. I'm the standard grey wooly type myself, but people have gifted me socks in other colours.

Jay Angler wrote:

Not sure if I would approach it by stuffing each sock, then stitching them together, or cut the toes off and make a tube first. Opinions anyone?

Considering my skills, my inclination would be to make a continuous tube before filling the whole thing as a unit.  I imagine that if I made several filled pieces to attach, that where the joins were made it would create draft opportunities.

Socks don't actually go missing. They crawl into the closet and metamorphose into hangers!

Socky dog toys. I had a good clear out of worn out socks a while ago and made these. Stuffing an old squeaker in them like Carla suggests would make them even more fun!

I wonder if socks vanish in the same manner as biros (Brit for ballpoint pens) in the quote below.

Veet Voojagig, a quiet young student at the University of Maximegalon, pursued a brilliant academic career studying ancient philology, transformation ethics, and the wave harmonic theory of radical perception. However, after a night of drinking Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters with Zaphod Beeblebrox, he became increasingly obsessed with the problem of what happened to all the Biros he had bought over the past few years. There followed a long period of painstaking research during which he visited all the major centres of Biro loss throughout the Galaxy and eventually produced a theory that caught the public imagination at the time: Somewhere in the cosmos, he said, along with all the planets inhabited by humanoids, reptiloid, fishoids, walking treeoids, super intelligent shades of the colour blue, there was also a planet entirely giving over to Biro life forms. It was to this planet that unattended Biros would make their way, slipping quietly through wormholes in space to a world where they knew they could enjoy a uniquely biroid life style, responding to highly biro oriented stimuli, leading the Biro equivalent of the good life.
― Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy