Four days ago I got my first pair of cheaters. I guess a lifetime of self manicures, writing for a living, and needle pointing in one's spare time does something to one's eyeballs. So does, ah-hem, tipping over ever so slightly into the Forty-Uh-Oh Club. Last year I could easily inspect my cuticles this far from my face. This year? Not so much.
So during my annual eye exam a week and a half ago, it was determined – by a doctor who looked for all the world like he still belonged in Kindergarten – that yes, indeed, I would benefit from some reading glasses. But not just any reading glasses. Not for me the naughty secretary 1.25+ magnifiers sold at just about every hip retail joint in the city. Oh no. Because one of Moi's eyeballs is this much fucked up while the other one is only this much fucked up.
Which meant special lenses.
Which meant spending 30 full minutes alone trying to find a pair of frames that wouldn't immediately suck the Shoe Fund dry but which also looked, well, kinda hot perched up on my head when I wasn't wearing them up on my nose. Glasses that say that I'm more than just somebody's secretary, naughty or not, but am instead a Serious Writer. With some taste.
Of course, the devil on my left shoulder had to go and obsess all over a pair of bling-encrusted $285 Versace frames, trying to justify beyond any justification spending that kind of cold hard cash on what really just amounted to some bent metal.
So the angel on my right shoulder said to Moi, "Self? Fall is right around the corner and have you seen the new boots at Banana Republic? Besides, you only need these so you don't inadvertently apply M.A.C.'s Kid Orange to your elbows instead of your nail beds." So I told devil on left shoulder to piss off and went with a slightly more reasonably priced set of BCBGs. I say slightly because believe me when I tell you there is no such thing as inexpensive no name eye glass frames. Every shoe designer, restaurant owner, and car mechanic in the known universe has their named emblazoned on a pair. Which means any way you slice it, that's mucho dinero, compañero.
Another potential career opportunity whose bandwagon I did not catch.
5 comments:
My condolences, girlfriend. You're still the hippest hipster I know. I'll make ya a deal--in the coming years, I'll go glasses shopping with *you* if you'll go glasses shopping with *me.* Perhaps we can save ourselves some agony.
p.s. I think those frames look, to quote Moi, tres chic! Nice job!
p.p.s. Oh, yeah, and as someone who has worn glasses since the age of 8, I feel your pain on the mucho dinero, baby.
See what i mean about eyeballs?! yours look Fabulous in them color co-ordinated frames. Your work will be infinitely easier-for real.
P.S I went frame shopping with Wicked...ONCE.
Oh, wah. I've been blind for years! Hence, I totally understand that there are no inexpensive frames.
Those frames are sweet, by that way. So is your hair color. Welcome to the club.
snazzy.....
i like 'em.
they make Moi hotta than evah....
plus, i've worn glasses for all eternity (since I was six) and have total understanding of the cost of lookin sexy in something i only wear for a few hours a week, after i take out my industrial strength contacts. Essential.
no sympathy on the fucked upness of your eyes, I have been blind as a bat since 3rd grade. my eyes are THIS fucked up.
but your cheaters are so cute! love them!
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