Surely you’ve met people like me, and you may be one yourself—that person who is always cold. I’m the one pleading with the waiter (pre-pandemic) to turn down the AC. And yes, that’s me wearing a wool sweater in the office in the middle of July.
Night time can be especially awful. My husband has always been thoroughly supportive of my thermoregulatory needs, whether in restaurants or movie theatres. But once he moved in after we got married, I could no longer in good conscience keep the thermostat at the “near sauna” levels (his description, not mine) I was accustomed to. Fortunately, a few years ago, I made a discovery: socks at bedtime.
I wasn’t accustomed to wearing socks to sleep. Sure, my feet were cold, but so was the rest of me. I’d been piling layers upon layers of blankets on my body, burrowing my bare feet into my sheets, waiting impatiently for comfort and sleep to happen. Sometimes it would take more than an hour before I'd finally pass out.
The circumstances surrounding the aha moment are mundane. One night, after tossing and turning and realizing that my feet were especially cold, I willed myself to leave my bed and rummage through my drawer for a comfortable pair of cotton socks. To my delight, I somehow felt instantly grounded when I put them on and soon fell asleep. I’ve been wearing socks to bed ever since.
It turns out that a few small, not-necessarily-relevant-to-me studies suggest that the improvement was not all in my head. A 2018 Korean study involving six men in their 20s found that they fell asleep, on average, in 7½ minutes when they wore socks, compared with about 15 minutes when they didn’t. The study also suggested that the socks allowed the men to sleep longer and wake up less during the night (though I personally haven’t experienced those benefits). In a 2007 Dutch paper, eight subjects with no sleep issues who were between the ages of 21 to 39 fell asleep, on average, in about 11 minutes, compared with 16 minutes when they wore socks to bed. The improvement was a bit less dramatic in a group of eight older healthy sleepers (ages 56 to 80), likely because age impacts how you sense temperature and temperature shifts.
As Roy Raymann, PhD, lead author of the 2007 paper (and now chief scientific officer at SleepScore, the company that makes our sleep-tracking pick) explained, when the skin is warm, information from temperature sensors ends up in an area of the brain that’s involved in both sleep and temperature regulation. There, he said, warm skin is construed as sleep-permissive and cool skin equals wake-promoting. “That’s why, in part, it’s so easy to fall asleep on the beach on a warm summer day [despite] plenty of sunlight.” In a cool bedroom, warm skin also triggers sleep by encouraging heat to dissipate into the air, resulting in a drop in core temperature that’s important for drifting off.
So what does this have to do with socks? Feet are burgeoning with special vessels (called AVAs—arterio-venous anastomoses) that connect small arteries with small veins. This allows for an impressive amount of blood flow close to the skin, which, in turn, aids in the warming of it. Pulling on socks is more effective than piling on blankets because socks are a layer of insulation that stays in place even as you shift your feet. “They make sure your feet stay warm, and there’s a constant signal going to the brain that it is safe to sleep,” said Raymann. (Incidentally, mittens on hands work the same way, though it’s easier to tuck your hands beneath your pillow or body.)
The idea of dedicated bed socks is not new. The White Company has sold its cashmere bed socks since 1996, and they’ve been a best seller year-round ever since (despite their $50 price tag). I’ve never tried them, so I’m not in a position to recommend them, though I imagine they are more luxurious than the cotton socks I wear. Mine are simply old socks, and that makes them good bed socks. As long as socks are made mostly with breathable material, such as cotton or wool, imperfect elasticity makes them more comfortable around the ankles, and years in the wash have greatly softened them. Before the pandemic, I’d save precious seconds in the morning by wearing my long-discontinued Adidas socks to bed at night—so I could just throw on workout clothes and sneakers and head to the gym upon waking.
Now, in the thick of a pandemic winter and with no desire to go anywhere, much less the gym, I’m partial to my boot socks. They’re just loose and warm enough, without being suffocating. Admittedly, I wouldn’t have chosen this look back when my husband and I were first dating. But we’ve been married for 11 years, so it’s fine. He’s just happy he’s no longer throwing aside excess piles of blankets. Though I suspect he misses seeing those socks worn as they were meant to be—out to a too-cold restaurant where we’d spend way too much time deciding which table was farthest from the vents.
https://www.nytimes.com/wirecutter/blog/old-socks-cured-my-insomnia/
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