Having lived for over 380 years, there are one or two things I regret. Compression stockings are not one of them.
You know, despite the prevalence of healing magic, no one ever really thought to delve into a branch of the mystic arts related to podiatry. By the time a wizard reaches maturity at age 80 or so, he’s picked up the works: corns and calluses, toenail fungus, ulcers, athlete’s foot, pigeon-toe’d-ness, and a set of magical foot ailments as well. They have arch support insoles in this realm? Well, we have the act of filling our boots with toadstool mucus to dull the pain, then pulling off our boots at the end of each day and having a good old grumbling session about your aching feet. I always somewhat enjoyed the grumble sessions, especially when I went out to the Ogre’s Bogey (the most popular tavern in town), we all took off our boots and had something off a grumble-off. The smell also ensured that we had the whole place to ourselves, unless Foulweather the Flatulent was sitting at the bar.
But still, it was a constant source of mild misery. The I’m booted into this realm where they have no magic but also podiatry, and suddenly I’m ‘the worst case of foot illness they’ve ever seen’. Humph! They should have seen Hobble stench, the Fabulously Odorous Magician of the Fungus Vale! That’s what you get when you don’t bathe for 900 years, I suppose.
Anyway, I’m on a strict set of orders from my podiatrist: rubbing creams, custom orthotics, circulation socks, bunion splints, toe and shoe pads, and of course…compression stockings.
I tell you what, if I took these things back and sold them in my realm, I’d make a killing AND blow everyone’s minds. So comfy, so cozy, and they put a genuine spring in my step. I feel genuine joy when I pull them on. Makes me feel like I’m a fresh-faced seventy-year-old again! I think foot specialists themselves could do very well for themselves in my world.
Then again, people do love their grumbling.