Another pair? Don’t mind if I do (tabi edition)

I have a confession to make. I have a sock addiction. And more specifically, a tabi sock addiction.

It started innocently enough. One pair became two. Two became a small collection. And now, opening my sock drawer feels a bit like flipping through a travel journal of Japan, told entirely in patterns, colors, and split toes.

Tabi socks, with their distinctive separation of the big toe, are practical by design, originally meant for traditional footwear like geta and zori. But in Japan, practicality never excludes personality. Over time, tabi socks have evolved into canvases for creativity, seasonal motifs, regional humor, and quiet elegance. And somehow, I keep finding reasons to bring home “just one more pair.”

The latest addition joined the collection during a recent pass through Narita Airport. As any fellow addict knows, airports are dangerous places. There they were, calling to me from a display I had no intention of stopping at, featuring Kimidoll designs. Inspired by traditional kokeshi dolls, each Kimidoll represents a value or story, blending modern design with cultural meaning. Socks with symbolism? That was it. Resistance was futile.

What I love most about this growing collection is how deeply Japanese it feels. Even something as ordinary as socks is treated with care and intention. The fabric is thoughtful. The designs are balanced. The humor is subtle. There is an understanding that everyday items deserve attention too, because they are the things we actually live with.

In Japanese culture, joy often comes from the small things. A well-made object. A clever design. A moment of quiet delight during an otherwise ordinary day. Slipping on a favorite pair of tabi socks in the morning fits perfectly into that philosophy. They are unseen by most of the world, but they make me smile, and that somehow feels like the point.

My tabi socks now range from understated and classic to playful and bold. Some remind me of specific places. Others of moments, seasons, or unexpected finds. And yes, I fully acknowledge that I do not need another pair. But need has very little to do with it.

So here I am, embracing it. Another pair? Don’t mind if I do. After all, there are far worse things to be addicted to than beautifully designed socks that carry a little piece of Japan with them.