I BUY my socks in supermarkets these days, except on rare occasions - like it's the holidays and I'm staying somewhere with boats and overpriced fish and chips that come with homemade tartare sauce.

Then I'll disappear down the sartorial rabbit hole that is a ship's chandler and splash out on thick woollen socks, such as lighthouse keepers might wear if lighthouse keepers hadn't been laid off and their jobs automated.

Other than that, the supermarket serves all my sock needs without me having to give the slightest thought to fashion. They even do those trainer socks, the ones that don't show above your Adidas Stan Smiths and make you look all devil-may-care and free-spirited when you're in your shorts. Look at me! No socks! I could be Italian if I wasn't so peely-wally!

I tolerate supermarket socks, you understand, only because nobody ever sees them. They're either hidden in my sock drawer or under my trouser leg, or they hide themselves through their design. I suppose you could say I've given up on socks, uncoupled them from any relationship with style they might once have had.

I was shaken out of my complacency earlier this month, however, by none other than Booker Prize-winner Howard Jacobson, not generally a man I'd cock an ear to when fashion advice was being dispensed. But when he chose to deliver Radio 4's mini-essay A Point of View on the subject of socks, I did take notice. Men, ankles and "mankles" were also on the agenda, as he railed against the present fashion for suit trousers which don't quite meet the top of the shoe.

In particular he had it in for George Osborne (who doesn't?). In his words, the Chancellor's Budget Day get-up was a suit of "gamine skimpiness" whose worst aspect was that it had two inches of Tory sock hanging out the bottom. Such an affection smacks of infantilism, said Jacobson. It is unmanly. "It made the Chancellor look," he added, "too Audrey Hepburn-ish."

So far, so Funny Face. But while I hesitate to write anything which may give succour to George Osborne (who wouldn't?), perhaps he has done a good deed of sorts: those of us who have abandoned socks have now been reminded they can be used for purposes other than keeping our feet warm. They can be displayed. They can provide flashes of colour. They can be purchased in places other than supermarkets and for well above the £6 for three pairs which is currently my price-tag of choice. And they can be written about by prize-winning authors. Nor do they have to have the texture of sandpaper. Instead they can be made from cashmere, Indian cotton, angora wool - all materials which feel pleasant on the feet.

So as spring gives on to summer, let's celebrate all things talocrural. With No Socks Day and Lost Sock Memorial Day fast approaching - May 8 and 9 since you ask - let's make it a triple whammy and christen May 11 Get Your Mankles Out for the Lads Day. The ladies too, if they think they can handle it.