The weed fad has spread from the cabins of Woodstock to Colorado and into nearly all demographics in the current day, not least among art students. But in a world filled with musicians who rap about croissants and teenagers who live-tweet their dental appointments, the crop of boasting has complimented this sprouting agribusiness. It is socially unacceptable to merely “roll one” in the comfort of your own home or across Instagram, you see: Now, broadcasting your passion for and desire to smoke weed must be done with the utmost eloquence and creativity. It is represented ostentatiously and shamelessly. Our generation of ingenious businessmen has not only made cannabis accessible to our lungs, but to our feet as well. That’s right—we must not only smoke weed, but we must also wear it on our socks.
In 2002, aspiring skateboarder and stoner guru Keith Hufnagel opened a small boutique in San Francisco, where he hoped to give back to the community that shaped him into the successful man he is now. In no time, it seemed that HUF’s loudness would resonate across the country.
Today, the HUF brand is most notorious for its ample inclusions of a weed leaf motif, widely recognized on their knee-high socks. Available in nearly every color, these garments can most typically be spotted on a 15-year-old illegally attending an adult electronic dance music festival, a college fraternity member or even your local Publix employee. Despite their position on the social ladder, those who choose to represent this dank lifestyle all fall under the same infectious predicament. Such a disgrace can be defined as those who voluntarily expose recreational drug use upon, in my opinion, what is the most repulsive shared feature of the male and female anatomy: feet.
HUF stands by its products, touting their “offering of a unique range that reflects sophistication while simultaneously incorporating that certain nonchalance.” The only thing nonchalant I distinguish in a sock displaying not one, but multiple cannabis leaves, is the pervasive oblivion amongst its clientele. With this, I am embarrassed for such consumers who choose to pay $14-plus-tax fee for a pair of socks that portray a dope lifestyle when straight up weed off the streets now averages at $15 a gram (that is, according to Urban Dictionary. I wouldn’t know, otherwise. I swear.)
As if recreational marijuana usage wasn’t enough to get Smokey the Bear concerned, the ubiquity of HUF’s iconic sock is a blaring siren for the fashion police. Perhaps it isn’t the design of the sock so much as of the choice of attire as a whole: once during a fire drill I spotted an enthusiastic freshman wearing pink and grey HUF socks along with a tank top also printed with cartoonish kush. I asked myself how I hadn’t previously come across such a burlesque fashion statement, until I remembered that the “Swag Army” gang had imposed new regulations for inducting members, similar to those of the Plastics in “Mean Girls:” on Wednesdays, they wear cannabis.
Socks are made to keep you warm. High-rise socks are designed for those who, evidently, “have no chill.” Somewhere in between the lines of thermoregulation and weed, the two highs were misconstrued and disastrously intensified. Essentially, the length of your underwear must not represent getting high, and consequently, if one must go to these heights to achieve a supposed social nirvana, the sock will never fit.
