Click on the fashion slideshow below for eight great knee-length socks

I met Thea last summer; she was wearing a long vintage Snoopy T-shirt, knee-high stripy socks and a pair of Converse high-tops. There was so much going on there: it was antisexy, but incredibly sexy; she looked like a tomboy with a cool, fashionable edge. I tried and tried not to rip off her look, but it was futile. From then on, I had to have more socks in my life.

It has not been an easy journey. A friend and I were on holiday recently, and I was stressing over the prudence of a grown-up woman in peep-toe platforms, over-the-knee socks and short shorts. We had a concerted, rosé–fuelled mull over the aesthetic merits of socks, which are proving to be an extremely hard trend for any fashion-lover to ignore this season.

Were we too old, too lacking in edge or fashion sass to have socks appeal? Did they look silly, or was this impulse a deserved appreciation of a much-neglected accessory? Then, her boyfriend came charging in, grumpy and urging us to get a bloody move on – until he saw them. “Wow, those look wicked on you, those socks,” he said. “I love a nice sock on a woman.”

That sealed it for me, old tart that I am.

Socks certainly get the nod of approval from men, whether sitting below the knee, with their obvious schoolgirl connotations, or above the knee – a bit Helmut Newton, Guy Bourdin or Kate Moss in Agent P mode. But then, men react positively to nylon lace and PVC basques from Ann Summers – so they aren’t the best arbiters of female style.

Perhaps that is why, despite growing rather fond of socks, I’ve been nervous of wearing them in London, where the critical eye of every woman in town is dying to shred you. Possible reactions being: “Who does she think she is – a glamour model?” and: “My God, she actually thinks she’s got the legs to pull off that look,” and: “Mutton and lamb, or what?”

So, I’ve been wearing socks in secret for the past year. I’m no brave fashion forward, not like stylists such as Katie Grand and Lucy Ewing, who have been rocking a good sock for years. Even though I liked the cut of a sock’s jib, I was terrified of looking nerdy, try-hard or porky. But wherever I could, I gave socks a whirl, largely overseas, where nobody knew me. I was in Brazil earlier this year, at a hiking spa, and sported some hard-core knee-high sports socks with my Adidas by Stella McCartney running shorts.

There’s phenomenal variety out there: you need never look like a crowd-follower if you choose from the fabulous ranges by Pantherella, Burlington, Jonathan Aston, Falke, Eley Kishimoto, Calvin Klein and Marni, all of which are doing far tastier things than Prada. The latter’s socks are impossible to wear unless they are coordinated with the entire Prada look – particularly the shoes. Far worse, they are made to fit calves as wide as my arms; on calves as wide as my calves, they strain and stretch and are good only for showcasing knee fat (the micro-muffin-top of excess flesh that flows over the top of a pair of too-tight knee-highs).

But then something happened that persuaded me socks in the city were all right: I spotted a girl on the Tube wearing a simple – no, boring – shift dress and pumps. But they were totally sexed up with a pair of knee-high socks. Excellent look, I thought, staring enviously at her. It was time to go public. I had to try on a lot of socks before I got the look going, but even with flats, the knee-highs-with-shift thing looks the business. You can wear the craziest patterns and not look a twit. Really.

Thea, my friend from last summer, says socks have three things going for them that a lot of fashion does not: “They are not uncomfortable, they are not cold and they are not expensive.” She tells me a story about when she was living in Ibiza. It was November, and she was kicking around, feeling a bit depressed because everyone had gone home. “Then, this big black car pulls up.” She makes a buzzing noise of an expensive electric window being lowered. “I’m, like, ‘All right, Jade.’ She’s sitting there, just back from New York, wearing all that season’s new stuff – a beautiful red Marc coat, if I remember right. ‘I like your coat,’ I say. And she just nods in that snooty way she can and goes, ‘All right, Thea. Nice socks.’”

HOW TO ROCK A SOCK

To start with, try a black over-the-knee sock under a knee-length dress, and go with the cute peek people get when you sit down.

Then try a lacy or pinstripe sock under a pair of trousers.

Freshen up an old pair of black shoes with socks (ankle, knee- or thigh-length) and just think of them less as socks and more as boots.

There’s a line at which socks and short skirts can become a bit porno-schoolgirl. Even if your boyfriend likes it, it may be worth canvassing the opinion of a female, too.

Bag a chunky sock around the calf – it has an effect similar to a ruched boot.

Try layering them over contrasting-coloured tights.

If your legs are a bit chunky, and you feel self-conscious about them, stick to plain socks in dark colours.

Chunky-knit socks will make your legs look thinner. Jonathan Aston socksare the most fashion-forward, plus they’re British – and cheap.

And if you’re still not convinced, try wearing over-the-knee cashmere socks and nothing else in bed. That’s pretty delicious.

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