This story is from Manual, GQ’s flagship newsletter offering useful advice on style, health, and more, four days a week. Sign up here to get it in your inbox.
It’s said that you shouldn’t judge someone until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes. What this time-honored adage doesn’t specify, however, is whether or not that includes their ankle socks, too. As the debate about Gen Z versus millennial hosiery simmers with the piquant intensity of a pot of Carmy Berzatto’s lamb ragu—or for the olds, Artie Bucco’s Sunday gravy—it’s a question that begs an answer: Are crew socks the only acceptable kind of socks in 2024? And conversely, are ankle socks a telltale marker of middle-aged millennial-dom?
For context, the whole thing seems to have kicked off late last year when podcast host Phoebe Parsons took to TikTok with an observation that Gen Z was partial to mid-calf-height crew socks, while millennials were still going hard on the lower kind. A few months later, a millennial Australian podcaster posted a video of herself making a similar discovery that inspired her to write a post entitled, “I'm an elder millennial who just discovered the Gen Z sock rules.” It turns out she wasn’t the only member of Gen Y who was caught off-guard by this news. The debate has since gathered steam on TikTok and spawned a bumper crop of YSK trend pieces in The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Guardian, People and other bastions of elite cultural commentary. “First they came for our skinny jeans,” the general tenor went. “And now they’re here for our no-show socks!”
One generation being uncomfortable with a younger generation’s preference for a slightly different take on fill-in-the-blank, of course, is nothing new. In this particular instance, however, it’s worth understanding a little more about the dynamics in play before deciding whether to throw all of your short socks in the garbage. (Editor’s note: Please don’t. There are enough barely worn clothes in the landfills as it is.) The first thing to know about the millennial versus Gen Z sock debate is that the whole thing is a bit silly (and possibly created by the secret cabal of evil boomers who run the world in a desperate bid to cling to power.) Crew socks, specifically white sport socks, have been a big style move since at least the 1950s, and have been the go-to hosiery choice for style icons from Elvis and Paul Newman to Michael Jackson and Princess Diana, among many others. The second is that no-show socks (a.k.a. sockettes) were a terrible idea in the aughts and remain so today. Sure, they have the potential to imbue you with the smoldering ease of Thom Browne at the height of his powers, but they are just as likely to end up bunched awkwardly around your toes. And that’s to say nothing of what you’re supposed to do when you end up at a no-shoes house. And thirdly, ankle socks have always been totally okay for the gym, and the easiest way to ruin a great fit everywhere else.
What all of this fails to take into account, however, despite the popularity of short socks in the aughts and ’10s, is millennials’ contribution to the crew sock canon. It started with the rise of American Apparel in the early aughts, and the ubiquitous striped crew socks that helped turn the LA-based brand into a global phenomenon. A decade later, during the height of the #menswear era, crew socks officially shook off their long-held identity as boring but necessary undergarments and became colorful, expressive and—perhaps for the first time—fun. Among the first to the party was Stance, founded in 2009, which took the ubiquitous sport socks beloved by SoCal skaters and remixed them with the help of artists and designers from Neckface to Ronny Feig. Then, of course, there was Happy Socks, the Swedish label whose bold, all-over patterned socks became an essential part of any tailoring look circa 2011. While the big and colorful patterns of the early 2010s were ultimately ruined (like everything else!) by politicians and Silicon Valley tech bros, the designers that created them should be credited with helping to elevate the crew sock to its rightfully lofty position in the fashion pantheon.
This, however, doesn’t address the main issue here, which is whether or not stepping out in a pair of ankle socks or no-shows is a telltale sign that you were born before 1997. It might be. But more importantly, does it matter? One thing that we should all be able to agree on is that, whether you’re buying ’em in a six-pack from Amazon or splurging at the Gucci store, the power of a great pair of crew socks is undeniable. Especially during shorts season.