Boston Sox -- Sock Business Is Proving To Be On Sound Footing -- Jimi Lott / Seattle Times: Laurie And Bill Boston Have Gained A Toehold In The Sock Market.

Boston Sox. . -- Employees: 55. . -- Headquarters: Seattle. . -- Business: Casual socks. . -- Chief executive officer: Laurie Boston. . -- Annual sales: $3.5 million to $4 million. . -- Number of outlets: Nine.

As far as the Boston family is concerned, too many of the world's feet are dressed in drab socks whose major mission is to match shoes, cover toes or camouflage feet.

Appallingly practical socks. Socks dull as a dishrag, as colorful as a Seattle sky in January.

So Boston Sox, a Seattle-based retail chain owned and operated by the mother-father-daughter team of Laurie, Bill and Sarah Boston, has set out to sell the kind of socks it would be a shame to hide inside shoes.

In doing so, they have gained a toehold in the market for what has been one of the top-selling accessories for the past year or two. The trend has been nudged along by the recession, which made customers wary of major apparel purchases but still willing to buy a pair of socks or leggings, which range from $2.50 to $48 but average $6 in Boston Sox stores.

And business had been boosted by the heavy emphasis by popular retailer The Gap on accessories, especially fashion socks.

In fact, one short wall in Boston Sox stores is covered with a rainbow-hued collection of Gap-style socks, in three styles, 24 colors and priced with an eye to value.

Although Boston Sox stores carry a large selection of understated designer socks with labels from Adrienne Vittadini, Ralph Lauren and DKNY, about two-thirds of the company's sales come from novelty socks - everything from a sock that looks like a watermelon, complete with seeds, to one with a computer chip in the cuff that, when pressed, plays a tinny version of "You Are My Sunshine."

At Christmas, the stores stock a selection of socks that play Christmas carols; this is a big hit with children who love to run from pair to pair, pressing the chips until the stores ring with what sales clerks refer to as "a sock symphony."

The stores stock political socks featuring elephants and donkeys or, for nonpartisan patriots with a desire to dress for the Fourth of July, socks with one striped leg, one starred. One style shows all the bones in the foot (popular with doctors) and another features a sultry, come-hither babe bursting from a birthday cake.

At the other end of the spectrum, sort of, are socks for the sexually responsible - called Safe Sox - that come with a discreet pocket holding a condom.

Not only socks hang from Boston Sox display boards. Panty hose and tights are offered in an array of colors and styles. And there are baby booties, including some pairs packed in plastic eggs with a card reading, "Just Hatched."

"Socks are fun," says Bill Boston, a former Pay'n Save vice president who confesses he was a closet hot-socks buyer who wore his wild ones on weekends. But Boston's passion for socks came out at just the right time.

Since opening its first store in Bellevue Square in 1988, Boston Sox has opened eight more stores in the Northwest in malls from Bellingham to Portland. With annual sales in the $4 million range, it is one of the nation's larger retailers selling socks exclusively.

Although the Midwest and East Coast have some larger chains selling socks, Boston Sox has this part of the country pretty much to itself. The Bon Marche and Nordstrom provide some competition, but most of their sales are in basic, rather than novelty, socks.

The Bostons got into socks after Bill left Pay'n Save in 1985 and the couple began looking for a business in which they could work together. Laurie, a former housewife who earned a degree in journalism and English, researched a number of proposals before the couple, after flying around the nation to check out the competition, settled on socks.

Still, their first investment was a partnership in a locksmith company, which their son, Scott, 26, helps run today. Then came socks.

"We say we're in locks and socks," Bill says jokingly..

But the socks business is their main interest. And Bill, decked out in casual clothes and a variety of individualistic socks, instead of the suits of days past, now carries a business card reading, "President/Stock Boy. Laurie is chief executive officer, and their daughter, Sarah, 23, is operations manager.

When they settled on socks back in 1988, it was a choice that caught the socks-as-fashion-wave just as it was rising. That first year they opened two stores, followed by two the following year and four in 1990. Last year, with the recession finally casting a shadow over the Northwest, they opened only one. They plan to open no stores this year. They say that their goal was to be in every major regional mall in the Northwest, and that it has been met.

This year, they computerized operations. They're also using the time to determine whether they ought to eventually accept outside investment (the company is wholly owned by the family and their banker) or make a public stock offering.

"If we want to do really rapid growth, then we'd have to look at something more than dealing with our friendly banker," says Bill, noting that no expansion would occur until the economy improves.

The potential for growth "is there," he says. "We would just have to decide if we want to do that."

So far, they say, they know that Boston Sox is doing better than some of its competitors, who have asked whether Boston Sox might be interested in acquiring some of their locations. The Bostons declined.

They're doing just fine where they are. For example, their Westlake Mall store consistently has been the top accessories merchant, according to mall management. And their store in Bellevue Square - even though hampered by its proximity to the closed Frederick & Nelson store - also is among the mall's top merchants in its category.

The Bostons have a fairly simple way of figuring where to put their stores. They figure their customer is the Nordstrom customer, so they go where Nordstrom goes.

"They have a great research department," Bill says with a smile.

Socks are a business for all times, they say. In good times, they are a fashion buy available in innumerable colors and styles. During a recession, they are an original gift or an affordable luxury, priced at little more than a latte.

Still, Boston Sox has made some concessions to today's value-conscious shopper by offering "three-fers," or three pairs of socks for a discounted price, and unadvertised, in-store promotions. An example might be a one-day, 50 percent discount on all sale socks in a particular store.

The Bostons offer a Boston Sox Club Card, which give buyers a free pair of socks for every 12 purchased; they say the promotion has built customer loyalty and resulted in their giving away more than 15,000 pairs of free socks.

Even though the business from local shoppers pays the bills, the Bostons say tourists are a major part of their clientele. In the Bellingham store, Canadian visitors account for much of the sales. And the Westlake Mall store is highly sensitive to tourist traffic.

"If there's a big convention in town, our business can double," Laurie says.

The stores' design has been critical to their success, says Laurie. Designed by Barnett Schorr Architects, they feature angled panels that draw the eye toward the back of the store. The panels display the socks for each "department" - men's, women's, children's, athletic, to name a few - and are studded with black plastic hooks - instead of shiny chrome ones - that hold the socks but blend into the background, making the socks themselves a key design element.

And whimsical touches suggested by the architect help create a lighthearted mood. For example, the plastic cutouts of feet and legs, clad in a changing selection of socks, that dangle from the ceiling. Or the faint footprints imprinted on the carpet - large ones facing the men's section, tiny ones in front of children's socks.

Even though fashion socks are big sellers, their popularity is starting to wane in some markets, says retail analyst Brian Turner. That doesn't necessarily bode ill for a Seattle socks store, he says, because the Northwest sometimes hangs onto trends longer and, at any rate, "we're always two to three years behind" in fashion trends.