I have the vague, uneasy feeling that if I admit I actively match socks, I'm saying something akin to, "Way, way back when, back when the mammoths still roamed the Earth and fire was still quite the novelty, there was an enigmatic group of people who, quite deliberately, began to coordinate their footwear by size and material and, strangely enough, by color... "
eta: unless, of course, you're Hellis who still hasn't learned to tame the darn things from roving at will...