The second law of thermodynamics states that the total entropy of an isolated system can only increase over time. The increase in entropy accounts for the irreversibility of natural processes, and the asymmetry between future and past.
Everything rots. Decays. Descends into chaos.
And this is why I don’t bother buying 100 of the same socks and just not worry about them matching.
There is always a temptation, when you’re scrambling to find a match to the sock you have in hand, in a rush, to throw them all out, buy a wealth of the same sock, and never have this problem again.
Thus, I own a lot of the same brand and style of white ankle sock. I didn’t quite go all the way in eliminating other socks (especially since I generally prefer black socks that are crew length) but I did stock up, over several trips to Target, in these socks. In my optimism I thought this would make it easier on those rushed mornings to grab two matching socks!
Alas… entropy bested me. Wearing them wears on them. Washing them wears on them. Colors shift over time. So this pair, which has been worn a little more often than that pair, soon doesn’t match if you swap their mates. Each pair carries the character of it’s experience. To add salt to the wound I’m clumsy, and the lost sock that doesn’t make it from the washer to the dryer, or falls in front of the washer before the load even goes in, gets a different experience from it’s dear mated and washed/dried companion. Some of them have holes and are nearly gray socks, some are still crisply white and utterly hale.
The best laid plans of socks and speed end in entropic events that foiled me forever. In fact, the near-but-not-quite similarity actually has now complicated the scramble for socks when I’m rushed and sleepy.