
Let me set the scene for you. I’m standing in my closet, a laundry basket at my feet, trying to find a clean pair of socks for homeschool co-op, and I have this sudden, out-of-body experience: every single pair of socks I own is either a thick wool boot sock (thank you, New England winters) or those low-cut, practically-invisible ankle socks we all committed to during the early 2000s like our lives depended on it.
And then it hits me—I missed the memo. Again.

Apparently, ankle socks are geriatric now. And not “grandmillennial chic,” no. Like, you’re officially old if you still wear them outside of a Barre class (which, let’s be real, I’m not going to anyway because #kids).
So there I was, googling “what kind of socks are in style 2025,” praying that this wasn’t going to be another low-rise-jeans-all-over-again situation. And that’s when I saw it…
Crew socks.
Pulled. Up.
In public.
I choked on my coffee.
Is this real life? Are we really out here wearing tall white socks like we’re middle school boys waiting for basketball practice to start? Like it’s 1997 and we’re listening to our Walkman while waiting for TRL to come on? Apparently… yes.
This is where it’s at now…

And here’s where it gets emotionally complicated. You see, I was a teen in the 1990s – early 2000s. And back then, if your socks were even visible, you were shamed into oblivion. Didn’t matter if your parents could only afford crew socks from Kmart—if they peeked above your sneakers, you were DONE. I still carry that trauma in my nervous system.
And now? The Gen Z girlies are confidently strutting around care-free, styling crew socks pulled high over their leggings like it’s a fashion statement. And it IS.
So here I am—an almost forty, mom of six, emotionally damaged by past sock-bullying—trying to figure out what the heck kind of socks I’m supposed to wear now.

Step One: Acceptance
Yes, ankle socks are dead (for now). RIP.
No, you’re not uncool forever—you just need to pivot.
Step Two: Buy the Crew Socks
Start with a nice neutral 3-pack. White. Ribbed. Slightly sporty, but not too “dad.” Bonus points if they have a tiny swoosh or retro stripe. Yes, you’re allowed to buy the Target brand. Yes, your husband will steal them. No, your children will not respect sock ownership boundaries. It’s fine.
Step Three: Pull Them Up
This is the hardest part. Because it feels wrong. It feels like breaking a lifelong rule. But you must resist the urge to scrunch them down or hide them under your pant leg. That’s not the vibe. You are now a confident sock-wearing adult. You are doing this on purpose.
Step Four: Pretend You’re Fine
Pair them with sneakers and bike shorts. Or leggings. Or whatever Gen Z is wearing that day (check that TikTok thing, not me). Act casual. Don’t over-explain how you’re styling crew socks or say “I’m trying this new sock thing” out loud at preschool pickup. Just walk like you’ve been doing it forever.
Styling Crew Socks:
I won’t lie to you, fellow millennial moms. This styling crew socks thing shook me to my core. I didn’t think I’d be here, learning how to style socks like it was a fresh skillset. I thought I was past this part of life. I thought I knew who I was!
But fashion, like motherhood, is full of surprises. And if wearing visible socks means I’m “with it” again (even if only for the next six months before Gen Alpha decides we’re supposed to be barefoot all the time), then so be it.
So next time you catch your reflection at Trader Joe’s, socks proudly pulled high and peeking out above your Hokas, just smile and whisper to yourself:
“I’m not old. I’m just… sock-evolved.”
And then go buy another 4-pack. Because your tween just took yours.

What about you, mama? Have you made peace with visible socks? Trying to figure out this whole styling crew socks thing? Or are you still hiding your ankles in shame? Let’s discuss sock trauma in the comments below. 🧦💬