I have spent an entire week agonizing over a new pair of eyeglasses. I was not planning on buying them right now but some creep recently stole my prescription sunglasses. Yes, stole them. I had left them on the counter while fishing around in my purse for change to pay for my Starbucks coffee, then went to the ladies, realized my glasses were not on my head and returned to find they were gone. “Turned up missing,” as they say. I have since learned there is quite a market in left-behind sunglasses since you can pop the prescription out and replace them with your own, thereby avoiding the hundreds of dollars you would have had to ante up to obtain them legally. I was very upset, still am, damn the thief’s eyes.
Since I have been routinely ripping my everyday glasses off my head to see better, I was overdue for an exam and prescription change anyway, so off I went to the ophthalmologist, who handed me the ticket for my eyeball upgrade. Next: The optician. While I was horrified at the potential unexpected expense, deep down I was thrilled to pick new frames, which for me is almost a lifetime commitment.
The optician’s assistant was happy to be my personal shopping assistant and brought me 5,000 pairs to try on. I glommed on to a funky pair made by “Face a Face” that sported dark ocean turquoise “arms” and turquoisy-tortoise shell eyepieces. They were VERY DIFFERENT from anything I have ever worn. They were fun, contemporary and comfortable. I felt like Mrs. Cool. And while I am not funky in general, I have my moments, and I wanted to wear the possibility of it on my face.
With the special Varilux lenses (yes, I am stepping away from trifocals-with-lines) and the antiglare jazz thrown in, they would have cost close to a thousand dollars. And even though my own mother would remind me to allocate the expense over the anticipated lifetime of wearing them every day (8-10 years), I still could not do it. Mrs. Cool had to step back. I opted instead to reuse my rimless frames, still nice, but now with the option of having a “fake” blue rim etched in around the lenses to give them some definition. The expense was cut in half, which made the purchase of both the sunglasses and my everyday glasses somewhat reasonable. Sigh.
But mark my words: One of these days, expect to see me sporting a rainbow-funky-who-is-she-where-did-she-get-those-cool-glasses pair. My inner funky will eventually show her true self.