It's taken the world a while to take it seriously, but the most perplexing issue facing mankind is finally being tackled.
The good people at Fisher and Paykel have confronted the Bermuda Sock Triangle head on, with their latest campaign to solve the mystery.
The missing sock phenomenon was first brought to public attention in the following RR column, which appeared in the Sun in April 2004. We thought it timely for you to be re-acquainted with this information (while I spend some quality time with the boat):

Finally, someone is taking the greatest mystery of the century seriously.
No, it's not a fix for the hole in the ozone layer. Nor the tracking of the Loch Ness monster. Even more perplexing than why Shortland Street continues to run. Not even the discovery that Elvis is alive and well and working in a drycleaners in Tirau.
It is the realisation that something mysterious is happening to our socks. And something serious needs to be done about it.
For decades, New Zealand men have been suffering from serious sock lossage. Usually just one, but sometimes the pair. But steadily and surely, our socks have been disappearing. It's enough to drive you hopping mad.

Innocent?
Many blame the washing machine, others the clothesline. Then there's the evil dryer. Sitting demurely in the corner, looking the innocent party – but who really knows what happens in the heat and confusion of the tumble cycle?
Blokes, you can take some small comfort now in the knowledge that you're not alone. For years we've been individually suffering silently, refusing to publicly admit we have a problem, too embarrassed to discuss it. Just sitting in our odd socks, hoping the length of trousers will keep the shameful truth from the scornful eyes of the fashion police.
Finally sock makers Jockey Gold Top has ventured where no sock maker has gone before. They've documented proof that there is a mysterious force at work. Their survey of New Zealand men has found that our socks are disappearing into the washing machine, never to be seen again.
Five out of 10 keep the odd sock, clinging to the hope that one day the missing one will again appear and be reunited.
Two thirds have confessed to deliberately wearing odd socks. And I have to admit to this indiscretion.
About 70 per cent also believe their sock drawer contains up to five unmatched socks at any given time. Hell, just the five? I've got bags of forlorn lost sole, sock orphans. I've placed a moratorium on further use, given them three years to await the return of their buddy, or be mis-matched with a fellow widower and put back into service in the sock drawer. It won't be ideal, but at least they will serve out the rest of their days making a contribution.
Many theories abound as to the destination of lost socks. A large number of men surveyed cast suspicion on wives and dogs. Others rambled incoherently about sock-thieving pigmies. (The survey results are unclear about whether alcohol consumption or substance abuse was a factor in these survey participants.)
One man surveyed believed there exists a conspiracy, in which socks end up in schools to be made into puppets.
Another confessed that he at least knew what happened to disappearing socks. He wore them until all the holes eventually joined together and the socks gradually disappeared into nothing.

Parting shot
Thanks to reader John:
I was reading in the paper today about this dwarf who got pick pocketed. How could anyone stoop so low?

Need more punishment?
RR columns and archives are available online at www.sunlive.co.nz Click on publications/The Weekend Sun/Rogers Rabbits.