To socialize or talk informally preferably over a drink. Word forms: 3rd person singular present tense hobnobs, present participle hobnobbing, past tense, past participle hobnobbed.
But honestly. Hobnob is a safe space for women who prefer iced coffee over a perfectly curated wardrobe. It’s is a daycare center for women who are intrigued by trends, but also don’t care. It is an open bar for those who swear on vintage Chanel and whose pension funds hang in their closets.
I used to laugh at them. Mean, late teenage laughter. I used to take sneak photos and send to my friends in big chat groups with caption “HA HA HA”. I used to pity them and their bum bags and their just-below-the-knee shorts. The tourists, geeky dads and people who clearly worked with ‘IT’.
Look at me now.
Not only did I buy just-below-the-knee shorts for a price I wont tell you about (but just letting you know they are Balenciaga and yes they have zippers to make them into short shorts too). I also got a bum bag. It’s Prada. Did I mention I work with THE INTERNET?
” –Miss, your pants are accidentally stuck in your socks– Accidentally? ”
Let me just start by saying I am a person who has a pretty big amount of integrity (or so I thought) and I am not an easy one to persuade once I have made up my mind. But just like a child growing up thinking she hated broccoli, tries it in a grown up age and loves it, I am coming around on things I never thought I would. Socks in sandals. And not only am I considering it, I wear in on a daily basis. Am I a tourist? No I’ve been living in this city for my entire life (if you don’t count that one year I lived in the north and my only friends were reindeers). Am I a dad, no but a dog mom. And clearly I am working with cyber.
Am I sorry about this you ask? Not necessarily. Maybe a little ashamed that I confessed to be a mean teenager to people who clearly just liked wearing sandals on days too cold to wear sandals. And people (let’s face it, men) who liked to be able to make their long shorts into shorter shorts as the day turned out to be a little warmer when than the weather app said this morning.
But, teenagers are allowed to be a little mean, as long as they live and learn by it. And man have I learned something.
Windbreaker, Balenciaga (similiar). Denim, Wood Wood. Bag, ATP Atelier. Clogs, Swedish Hasbeens.
But this is not about how much I have grown up over the last seven years. It’s about my love and marriage. The holy matrimony between socks and sandals. Or really any shoes that likes the company of rad socks.
Dress, Tiger of Sweden (coming soon). Socks, H&M. Sandals, Teva. Sunglasses, Prada.
Does this make me a victim of the cruel fate of fashion? Perhaps. Will I some time in my life regret writing this? I say no and you think I am lying. But you know what, so be it. As I am writing this, I realize this really is a part of something far bigger than my sartorial sock history. It’s about embracing the time you’re in and just go with it. Is it too cliché to say ‘life is too short’? It is, isn’t it? But I don’t care.
Because you know what? Everything in your wardrobe and everything you wear doesn’t have to be timeless. I KNOW SHOCKING HUH.
You can wear something one week and then regret wearing it the next week. It happens to me all the time. Am I sad about it? Rarely. Fashion and especially personal style has really gone out of control. One bad outfit, one bad year of outfits, even a decade of bad outfits doesn’t make your style bad. And so what if it does? Fashion is an effigy of the time. The years and decades you live and dress by. Appreciate that.
Our time is socks and sandals. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD IT FEELS FREAKING AMAZING WITH THE BREEZE BETWEEN YOUR TOES AT THE SAME TIME YOU ARE PERFECTLY TEMPERED.
THE ELDER STATESMAN
Fanny Ekstrand is a writer, creative consultant and founder of Hobnob. She says she is the master of vintage shopping and knows all the pasta dishes in the world.
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