Look, I realize I’ll be put in the same category as all the old farts who complain that “MTV used to play music videos,” but I don’t care. The moment Sox Appeal closed its doors, the Uptown of my youth died.
Maybe you’re too young to remember Sox Appeal (or Uptown at its height for that matter). Well, allow me to enlighten you.
Back in the day, Uptown wasn’t some shopaholic’s wet dream. It wasn’t a mecca for lowlife corporations. It was an eclectic sideshow of freaky nutjobs. Punk rock attitude wrapped in a sexy burrito of anti-establishment. And the guac on that burrito? Sox Appeal.
Whether you loved Dilbert, Andalusian horses, Picasso’s Blue Period, or just wanted everyone to know that you were the undisputed “Duchess of Sassytown,” good luck finding a better way to subtly display that side of your personality without a pair of Sox Appeal socks.
There was something for everybody in that little wacky shack of a store. Sox Appeal was the only place that had the stones to sell socks that weren’t fruit of the loom normie foot holders. Didn’t matter what your race, gender, class, or creed, you were welcome. Sox Appeal was slinging socks and sticking it to the man.
And Carla. Oh, Carla. When you were working, our smile made everything in my life better. But more than that, your sock suggestions were always spot-the-F-on. But now, she and Sox Appeal are gone. And Uptown, as well as my life, is lesser for it.
So, enjoy your Apple Store, plebeians. Uptown is dead.
* Carla, if you’re reading this, I hope you realize how special you are. Just know that every time I put on my Remember 9/11 socks, I’m thinking only of you.