Men's Socks

It's very difficult to me not to buy mens clothing instead of girls. No, I don't identify as male, and yes, I am comfortable as a girl, but sometimes blouses and tights become bleak or annoying and change is due.
Considering that I have no impulse control when the summer starts when it comes to cutting all of my jeans into shaggy, uneven, totally not ok to go in public with shorts, each August brings a trip to Old Navy to get more jeans that fit. They also have a mens section.
Old Navy seems to be the only place where I can purchase pants because I have thick thighs, long legs, and weirdly shaped hips. Size six, Diva style, to be exact. Anyways, I went in to buy pants.
While I was there, I had to hunt down my brother. He was taking too long in the tee-shirt department. I was looking for a middle school boy, I found fox socks and blue socks and red socks and striped socks. On sale.
There might have been something weird to my mother about her teenage daughter coming up to her in a dress and saying, "Mom? Can I buy these men's socks?" But come on, they were fox-socks.
Aside from finding these socks to be the most comfortable thing ever, I wear my brothers clothes a lot. Not really pants, but a lot of shirts. If my house had transparent walls, you could often see me pulling boys tee-shirts on, trying to see if I can cut my old pajama pants into boxers, and letting my feet swim in my brothers size 11 socks (women's size 12. I'm a size 8). This annoys him a lot.
I have a distinct memory of wearing my brothers sweatshirt one February morning, and making pancakes to surprise him when he got up. The scene went like this:
"Take my sweatshirt off."
"No"
"Yes. It's mine, you're a girl anyways."
"No."
"Take it off."
"Fine."
So I did just that. My brother (twelve at the time) was standing there in sweatpants and no shirt, so why couldn't I?
Thankfully neither of my parents were home, and no one rang the doorbell, because I don't think anyone (besides the one person who did, and that was involuntary), wanted to see a half naked fifteen year old girl.
I didn't grow up with sisters. I grew up with my one younger brother. I hate his guts, but I've picked up habits from him. There's two bathrooms in my house, and my mother has offered countless times for me to share her bathroom with her. I always decline. The shower's too small, and she'll probably use my shampoo. Instead, I share the smaller bathroom (that has a bathtub) with two boys/men. This is probably why I have no modesty, because guys generally don't. I don't have a problem with someone brushing their teeth while I'm showering, as long as their not brushing their teeth in the shower with me. That would be weird.
Really, all I want in life is to ditch my floral dress every once in a while, and become a dirty boy. But while still being a girl.