A Season to Tend and Restore
Spring invites us to care for what has cared for us.
There’s a certain moment in spring when the air shifts—windows open, light lingers longer, and we begin to put away the layers that carried us through winter.
For me, this seasonal transition always includes tending to my woolens. And yes… I have a lot of socks.
Not just any socks—my favourites are 100% merino wool. They’ve supported me through long winter days, and they deserve thoughtful care in return.
Wearing Less, Caring More
The wisdom of wool.
Years ago, during my first visit to Hirsch Natur, Sabine Brüggemann shared something I’ve never forgotten:
“You only need three pairs of wool socks. Wear one, let it rest for two days, and rotate. You’ll only need to wash them about once a month.”
It shifted something for me. Wool is naturally self-cleaning and deodorizing. When we over-wash it, we interrupt that process and wear down the fibres.
Now, even though I own many pairs, I follow this gentle rhythm—wearing, airing, and trusting the fibre to do its work.
Choosing the Right Sock for the Moment
Honouring both comfort and function.
Pure wool socks keep my feet warm, dry, and comfortable in a way nothing else can. The fibre's breathability allows moisture to escape, helping to regulate temperature throughout the day.
Synthetic blends, on the other hand, tend to trap moisture. I notice my feet feel damp and cold in them, which takes away from the warmth.
That said, there is a place for blends. When I’m gardening, exercising, or working hard, socks with a small amount of synthetic fibre are more durable and better suited to the task. Pure wool, under pressure, warmth, moisture, and friction, will felt and shrink.
It’s not about one being better than the other—it’s about choosing what supports you in the moment.
The Spring Cleaning Ritual
Washing, mending, and preparing for a rest.
Spring is when I gather my sock collection and begin the care process.
I wash each pair by hand using Disana wool shampoo, letting them soak for a little while. After rinsing with minimal movement, I press them with a towel and hang them to dry.
Once dry, I take time to look at each pair.
Some are ready to be folded and stored. Others—well-loved and worn—are set aside for mending.
Mending as a Practice
Extending life through attention and creativity.
When the right moment comes, I sit down with wool, thread, and patience.
My stitches are not perfect. They don’t need to be.
Each mend adds character. Each repair carries a story. Over time, these socks become more than garments—they become companions, marked by care and use.
When everything is washed and mended, I store them neatly away, ready for the return of cooler days.
Opening that box in autumn feels like greeting old friends.
A Closing Reflection
This practice is about more than socks.
It’s about slowing down. Paying attention. Participating in the rhythm of the seasons in a tangible way.
These small acts of care connect us—to our clothing, to the natural world, and to ourselves.
And when the cold returns, that care comes back to meet us—warm, familiar, and ready to be worn again.
I hope you love your socks too.