Right now, I got some socks that my momma bought me. When I got on house arrest, she bought me a bunch of socks and undershirts and shit—you know, being Mom. She bought me some And 1 socks, they got the little cushions under the bottom. But me, I don’t give a fuck. Sometimes I wear them, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I’m wearing cargos and I don’t wear socks. Or I mismatch my shit. One is Hanes and one is Fruit of the Loom or something. They don’t look the same though, they both white, nobody’s going to care. One might be long, one might be short but you can’t tell, I got on jeans. All my socks is dirty, I got to wear jeans. That’s the shittiest shit. I hate that. Ah, man, it’s the worst.
A poorly curated inspiration board for the sartorially inclined.