Socks and Violence (Reprise)

Frankly, I was worried: it feels as if he has been silent for too long. I had visions of a man crushed beneath a falling pile of socks boxes, or another victim of London's vicious hosiery underground.

But he is still at large. Mr Socks is back in action, having a square go at that bloke who had the big internet hit last year.

Socks is not happy with Psy's behaviour in his latest video. "Mr Psy's antics are nothing short of disgraceful, and as one of 30 million gentlemen in the United Kingdom, it falls to me to say enough is enough," say the web sock merchant, slipping in a cheeky plug for his service in every other line. 

"As gentlemen of the first water, it behooves us to challenge Mr Psy to a duel, because this is how proper gentlemen settle our differences in matters of honour."

Socks is no stranger to controversy. He has spent the last few years reminded gentlemen how to behave, and linking clean socks to better manners. There has been speculation that this elegant persona hides a man who will stop at nothing to get men into fresh socks - a bit like Batman, he had a bad incident as a child, only it involved athlete's foot and not a gun-toting criminal.

Suddenly remembering that Psy was in the army for two years, however, did give Mr Socks a moment's pause. Rather than guns, his choice of weapon is  "Ballroom, the dance of Gentlemen, or it's no dice. There'll be no prancing about Gangnam Style like a horse in matters of honour. Also, for logistical reasons, it has to be within twenty miles of Leeds City Centre."

Hopefully, Socks isn't going to get into a ruck with Psy, and this missive is the return of a modern marketing genius.

The Silence of the Socks

After a brief interregnum -  which I ascribe to the rush of Valentine's Day - Mr Socks is back. Regular readers will be familiar with Mark Hall, Gentleman Creation Officer, who matches a pitch for online sock delivery with intriguing observations on social etiquette.

It started out as a bit of fun, but I am increasingly being seduced by Mr Sock's nostalgia perspective on good manners and public graces.

Although I am never quite sure where he sources his figures, Mr Socks has some statistics about the consequences of Facebook and Twitter and Mobile Phones. And, like he says, they are shocking. Let's have a look. 

80% admitted to playing on their smart phone or Internet tablet during dinner

I don't have either a smart phone or a tablet, but I do fiddle about with my knife and fork between courses.

76% sit in silence with their partners most evenings while browsing the web

I am out every night at the theatre.

84% said they got angry when they were interrupted while using a smart phone or tablet

I get agree if someone Facebook messages me when I am trying to play Avengers Alliance, so I imagine this one is true.

98% said they had never held a dinner party

I am sure that I have. Only I might not have cooked dinner in three years, preferring to grab something on the bus, on the way to the theatre.

82% said they hadn't read a book in over a year

Okay, that one does appall me. Although perhaps the same number are too busy reading blogs? I mean, why read The Empty Space when I probably mention the best bits in a review about Cain's Book at The Arches?

Given my fascination with Mr Socks, and my frequent complaints that he is encouraging a reactive attitude to contemporary living, I am almost sorry to say that he got me on this one. The Internet is becoming a substitute for lived experience. And if anecdotal evidence is needed - you know, what newspapers often have instead of research - I am sitting in Tramway, alone, and have just told my friends at the Box Office that, while I find their conversations stimulating, I wanted to get online.

Then again, as my relatives will point out, talking to me online is far more palatable than having me in your face in real life. No need to deal with the personal hygiene issues, and when I start on about the nature of contemporary dance, there's an off-switch. 

Besides, a friend might feed you, tell you a joke, suggest a fun activity or share your emotional anxieties. The internet, on the other hand, has a thousand ways to anonymously bother people and find out about celebrity lifestyles. 

"There's a time to play with your phone, and a time to switch it off," retorts Mr Socks. "Just for once, go out and have an actual conversation. The results will amaze you."

That is me told. Mind you, I can follow him on twitter now 

Lost Socks

I have a slight concern. Mr Socks has not been in touch with a press release this week. And he did two last week. I am hoping that he is okay, or that the message he left at the end of the last blog about him did not signal a freeze in our relationship.

In my dealings with Mr Socks, I experience the same bisociation that the best theatre can give me. When I read his press releases, I see two Mr Socks at the same time. When I am watching a version of Othello, I get the same feeling.

Buy this at twww.amazon.co.uk

Bisociation is the ability to perceive an object through two competing reference systems at the same time. So, when I watch Othello, I am seeing what is really in front of me (a bunch of guys reciting words they have learnt) and what is supposed to be in front of me (an African warrior about to get hardcore on his wife).

Some people believe that the experience of watching theatre is about the suspension of disbelief - that they really believe, on an emotional level, that Othello is choking his innocent wife to death. Oddly enough, I doubt that anyone ever suspended their disbelief to think Donald Sinden was really Othello.

I am not saying that he isn't a great actor, but I am worried that even the picture of him is racist. It is certainly a reminder of times when theatres did not recognise that black-face was offensive. Suspend disbelief if you like, but the convention of blacking up goes a long way towards preventing it.

Anyway, back to Mr Socks. When I got the message from him, I felt joy and fear at the same time. Aristotle would be proud of me. And this is because I see Mr Socks through two competing frames of reference.

One is that Mr Socks is the person who has this lovely website, designed around the aesthetic of The Chap - self consciously old-fashioned, but overall a good egg who would find my blog amusing, and chuckle about it with his mates at the gentleman's club.

The other is that Mr Socks is a gangster in a lock up with too many boxes of black socks to shift. This Mr Socks is going to come round and give me a doing.

Maybe I ought to calm down. I reckon he's a gentleman, and he'll being doing something special for Valentine's Day. Either way, can somebody get a subscription and tell them you were led to his site by me? 

The Joy of Socks

I knew he'd get there eventually. Mr Socks has commissioned a new survey. And yes, he has finally discovered that mysterious connection between socks and making love.

Here's the headline:

Valentine Survey Reveals Odd Things Men Wear During Sex 

Since I imagine that Mr Socks sits in the centre of a luxurious office, wearing a smoking jacket and twirling his mustache while his minions make socks, I presume his survey involved asking his friends at the Gentleman's club. 

In that case, Mr Socks has a pal who likes wearing a Prince Harry mask during sex. Just the one, mind: the others like wearing football shirts, their partners' pants, their own pants, "fancy dress"and - luckily for the press release, socks.

To be honest, I wasn't that impressed by the last press release from Mr Socks. I felt he shoe-horned the socks into the article. But this time, he's on the money. He gets to defend the humble sock against those women who moan about men wearing socks in bed.

Over to Mr Socks...

"As part of our research, we found no end of women's lifestyle articles on the web complaining about men wearing socks to bed, but they just don't understand how the male mind works," said Mark Hall, Gentleman Creation Officer. "People just don't seem to understand the powerful attraction and - let's face it - the essential comfort of the humble sock."

"One item even complained about men being 'too lazy' to take their socks off, asking 'What else might he be too lazy to do?' We say the last thing he wants on a cold February night is to get cold feet. Socks complete the Valentine's Day experience, and are too crucial to be forgotten."

"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Send your loved one the gift of a sock subscription from socked.co.uk this Valentine's Day. They look great with or without clothes and will keep both you and your partner happy all year round."

He's back on form. The finesse of his movement from general interest to the pitch, the presentation of himself as an authority: Mr Socks rocks. Look at that pun: "the last thing he wants... is to get cold feet." Elegantly, he associates socks with courage. 

Love is More Than Socks

He's back! Mark "Mr Socks" Hall has sent me another email. But this time he has bad news. "The Equation of Love makes depressing reading for singletons," he says. ""We've sat down and done the actual maths, and if we're correct, it's a wonder that the human race has actually managed to survive this long."

Perhaps stung by my accusations that his last missive lacked hard science, Mr Socks has gone mathematical. Checking out the 2011 census, Mr Socks has spotted that the number of single adults in the UK rose to 15.7 million, while the number of married couples hardly moved at all. 

I could do with the base levels to those figures, those. Did it rise from 15 million? One million? Statistics is about more than numbers. 

Anyway, I see Mr Socks' point. For anyone interested in the perpetuation of the human species, conservative moral values, the family as the basic unit of society of selling specialist millinery, this increase in single people is a worry. 

He moves onto the nitty-gritty, with one of those lists he seems to love. He calculates the number of things needed for "the average long-term relation ship" to come to "fruition."

I am not sure what he means by fruition. First base? 

Anyway, here's the list: check them off and see whether you've made it.

22 meals out as a couple (does that include kebabs after a John Zorn gig?)

Five meals out with friends in groups of four or more

Two holidays

Meeting the parents

Stay at the parents' house twice

Seven major arguments

Finding approval of at least 55% partners friends and relatives

At least £3000 spent on gifts

I am actually a bit disappointed. He hasn't really worked the socks into this one. Even his pitch is a little limp at the end. He makes a salient point that the consumer society has adopted a disposable attitude and apparently applied it to relationships. I'm sure he could have made a contrast with the importance of a monthly good quality sock delivery.

Actually, I think I have worked out what he means by fruition. He means marriage, or a civil partnership. And I notice that he isn't being quite so heteronormative this time: the couple is not necessarily a man and a woman.

"We've taken it upon ourselves to help gentlemen find and keep their ideal partner, or this nation is facing ruin," Mr Socks concludes. "Socked.co.uk isn't just a sock subscription service. We're here at socked.co.uk day in, day out, offering genuine advice on how to be a proper, caring gentleman who can stick at a relationship."

Is it okay if I admit that I find Mr Socks rather charming? I know my obsession is a total sell-out to some rather transparent marketing, but I've seen his website now. Seriously, he's brilliant. He's going for that whole Chap movement. He might even get Mr B to sing a song about him...

It's Mr Socks!

Some Socks, Yesterday

Having spotted an articled in a major Sunday newspaper that was pretty much written from a press release I had also received (thereby transforming a puff piece into part of the national debate about sexual identity), I have decided to pay more attention to the apparently random messages that turn up in my inbox. Sadly, there won't be much about theatre in this post.

However, we do have the latest message from Mr Socks. Mark Hall, who has the role of "Gentleman Creation Officer" at an online sock company is my favourite PR personality. Every so often, he sends out a press release to remind me about how I can get socks through subscription. But he adds value, by including a few top tips about being a gentleman.

You know that joke about how "I missed the memo" on a particular social code? Mark "Mr Socks" Hall is the man who sends the memos.

Today, he's got a shocking headline. 

Men's Brains "Wired Differently" To Forget Special Dates

Apparently, there's a bunch of research (the references are not quoted, suggesting Mr Socks has been reading those physiology books about gender difference that I picked up last year at the charity shop) that explains why men tend to forget "miss significant dates such as Valentine's Day, anniversaries and birthdays."

Instead, they remember stuff like who won the World Cup, and what was the number one hit single of 2006. Mr Socks bemoans the tragedy of men getting the blame for not remembering their lover's birthday.

"When she gets that last-minute bunch of flowers and dented box of chocolates that were clearly bought from the garage down the road on Valentine's Day, it's obviously because of genetic differences," said Hall.

"According to researchers, men use different genes to women when they come to make connections needed to store long-term memories, making men better at what they term "tactical" memories such as travel directions; while women tend to have "emotional" memories, such as special dates and anniversaries."

Although Mr Socks is presuming it's only heteronormative men who suffer, he goes on to gives us a list of the things men  forget. 

Birthdays (except their own, leading to my annual strop when my mother's card arrives a day late)

Valentine's Day (the card shops fortunately remind us with advertising displays)

Anniversaries (I never forget the date I first saw Les Ballets C de la B)

"What did I just say?" (Got me there)

Where they left the car keys (No car... but replace with door keys)

Partner's dress size (I know this one!)

Simple instructions on not burning the dinner

Paying bills on time (Seriously, not funny, dude.)

Partner's choice of wedding song (Please Release Me by Tom Jones)

Remembering to come home from work, and not to go to the pub (or in my case, not go to see avant-garde performance art at Tramway)

Of course, Mr Socks ends with an appeal to men to get organised - and the first step is to get a subscription to monthly black sock deliveries. 

There's something about Mr Sock's guile that charms me. It's pretty clear that this is an example of stealth marketing - although the stealth is pretty risible. But I love the way Mr Socks just seems to keep finding little facts about gender and turning them into a sales opportunity. So, until Mr Socks finds out I am writing about him, and sues me for libel, I am going to share them. 

I am even going to give a link to the service. 

To be honest, Mr Sock's fantastic facts jar with my own vision of gender identity. I have got into football a bit more just lately, mainly thanks to Watford FC's shift to a more continental style of play. Apart from that, I don't think I conform to the stereotype of masculinity. Mr Sock's etiquette tips are probably more helpful to more traditionally masculine men. 

Mind you, monthly sock deliveries might help my feet smell less like the changing rooms of Tramway. 

"Genes or otherwise, a gentleman simply needs to make small changes to his behaviour and he'll reap the rewards," said Mr Socks. "Convert those emotional memories to tactical ones, and the battle's half won."

"Men may be forgetful animals, but at least a sock subscription takes one thing off their mind, with a regular delivery of socks to their door. That might just leave enough space in their heads to remember February the 14th."