By Billy Nungesser, lieutenant governor of Louisiana, was very excited this morning. Very, very excited indeed. The day was finally here: the day he'd greet the President of the United States, the Commander-in-Chief, the Honourable Donald J Trump, at Chennault International Airport in Lake Charles, Louisiana.
You can just see him, jumping out of bed at 6am, pulling a Batman dressing gown on over Spider-Man pyjamas and grinning at the very special pair of socks he'd bought for the occasion.
Yes, he probably thought, nodding slowly as the dawn sun peered weakly through his Guardians of the Galaxy curtains. Yes. These socks are the absolute nuts. Oh man, wait til the president sees these!
And he really did meet Trump wearing them.
Computer: enhance.
Well. There's a lot to unpack here, even leaving aside the pained Kenneth Williams face sock-Trump is pulling and Nungesser's nut-brown Yates' wine bar disco slip-on shoes. Firstly, the hiking of the trouser leg to properly expose the candyfloss tendrils to their flesh-and-blood inspiration. Secondly, the awkward off-balance waggle to really flaunt the toadying. Thirdly, Trump's finger pointing from the top of the frame at his own gurning face rendered in cotton, polyamide and elastine.
It's hard to find an appropriate comparison to draw between that sock's hair and a real human being's hair. You remember Michael Sheen's slicked rat quiff in Tron: Legacy? Nobody remembers Tron: Legacy, bad example. Robyn in that video she did with Royksopp for 'Monument'? David Bowie as Jareth the Goblin King in Labyrinth?
Moreover, where did Nungesser buy them from? How does a person firstly summon up enough enthusiasm for Donald Trump to conceive the idea of making a pair of socks designed on his likeness? How does that person then get so carried away that they add about a foot of plumage to them? How do they manage to get the actual look of one of the most famous heads of not-quite-hair in the world wrong? How itchy were Nungesser's shins for the rest of the day?
Wacky fun socks are never, ever good. That's an obvious take-home. But this is the point at which wacky fun socks become a serious issue. Take the socks off, Billy. Take them home. Burn them. Bury the ashes in your garden. Don't let them hurt anyone else.
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