They’re easy to get on and off and comfy through hours of chores
During testing, most of our compression sock picks were fantastic for gardening, chicken-keeping, and doing yard work on my small woodland farm because they kept my feet and calves from getting cramped and stiff, even after hours of standing. The rest of me might’ve been sore the next day, but my feet were ready to carry me back outside for more. That’s probably because the socks were doing what they’re supposed to do — improving my circulation by giving my legs a squeeze.
Wearing compression socks even made it easier to slide my feet in and out of my wellies, and they stayed in place without bunching or sliding down.
But Wellow socks became my favorites because they’re stretchy and soft (the fabric is a viscose/polyester blend), supportive but not oppressively tight, and easier to pull on, even over leggings, than other compression socks I’ve tested. They’re almost as easy to peel off when I’m sweaty or mud-caked after a day outside.
Compression socks are graded at different strengths using millimeters of mercury (mm Hg), which is how blood pressure is measured. That measurement tells you how tight they are, and they’re meant to be tight to offer support. But some compression socks take that job more seriously than others. I’ve worn pairs that I could not get out of without pulling a muscle or calling my husband or daughter for extra help (which isn’t ideal when I’m filthy). Wellow socks are considered medium-firm compression at 18 to 25 mm Hg, but unlike our other picks of similar strength, they come off with just a little tugging.
They protect my legs from the hazards of nature
Wellows are nice and tall — so tall that I have to fold over the stretchy cuff to keep them below my knees. I’m only 5-foot-2, but we’ve had taller testers who also found them a little high.
For yard work, I appreciate that extra height. We have a forest full of thorny, scratchy brush, a couple dozen chickens, and at least seven separate garden areas that I maintain. I never know what I’m going to step in or walk through. I used to wear long pants in summer to protect my legs, but now I often wear shorts with Wellow socks instead.
I like pulling them over leggings during the cold, rainy months of gardening in the Pacific Northwest (which means most of the months of gardening). On summer evenings they protect my legs from bug bites.
Wellow socks are also a nice barrier against the nastier stuff I come in contact with. I recently spilled wet, sludgy fertilizer down my leg and into my boots. A few days later I stepped in deep, soggy muck in our chicken pit. My legs and feet were spared these horrors directly, and I could peel everything off quickly and run for the shower.
They keep my feet warm and my legs cool
I’m perimenopausal, so my ability to regulate my body temperature seems to no longer exist. My feet are chronically cold, and yet the rest of me can feel like I’m standing in a furnace. Wellow socks look like thick, fuzzy socks that should be saved for winter, and during my testing last year, the idea of wearing them in summer filled me with dread.
But they turned out to be the only compression socks I tried that could keep my feet toasty without also overheating my legs, even after hours working outside. I’ve even forgotten I was wearing them on a 90-degree day.
They’re so comfy I often just wear them as everyday socks. When I run out of clean pairs and have to wear normal socks, I feel the difference right away, in every way. So when I see them on sale I buy more (they’re one of our more affordable picks, but they’re still almost $30 a pair).
I’m hard on them, so they do show signs of wear and tear
The care instructions for these compression socks recommend cold water and gentle heat, and even hand-washing, but … I don’t do this. I have definitely washed my Wellow socks more than once on the hottest, longest Sanitize cycle on my machine after getting them drenched in something disgusting (but I don’t dry them on high heat).
My older pairs do look fuzzier and slightly more pilled than my newer pairs as a result. But I haven’t noticed any significant changes in how they fit, feel, or perform.
They also have some friction marks where the top of my wellies rub against them, but this happened with a lot of the socks I tested while gardening. They’re still the socks I reach for first when I’m ready to get my hands (and feet) dirty. I may just pick up a couple more pairs the next time they’re on sale.
This article was edited by Alexander Aciman and Catherine Kast.
