Allow me to set the scene:
Event: 4th grade Native American Ceremony Reenactment
Costume: Mask fashioned from half a milk carton and papier-mâché.
The drums start beating and the rain dance reenactment begins. I should already be in place next to Tiffany in the 2nd row. Unfortunately I am not able to differentiate any of my classmates from this distance. My vision is too blurry and it’s dark. Freaking out, I begin to mentally prepare myself for what approaches: disaster + catastrophe = disastrophe.
What 10 year-old me does not realize is there is a simple solution: SPECTACLES!
My first pair was electric purple with a lens the size of a soda can. Throughout primary school I was a shy young thing, simply wanting to blend in with everyone else. My enormous eyeglasses made it seem impossible. I am relieved to testify that my fashion taste has matured considerably, and I’m no longer concerned with fitting in.
My style naturally gravitates towards 1950’s inspired pieces, as I’ve always fancied myself a bit of a lady of that time. Since the age of 15, I’ve been looking for a swell pair of cat eye specs, and even begged my Grandma to try and locate her old pair. Luck was not on my side, that is, until I scooted through a London market earlier this year. On a whim I tried on a pair of chunky black cat eye frames from a stall boasting vintage specs.
Mine! Mine! Praise Zeus they took credit cards, because I was not going to let those frames leave my face (stealing would have made things awkward). Additionally, I had to get my prescription put in them: expensive impulse purchase. But they now complete my look, which is a priceless concept. If I were a table, my specs would be the extraordinary centerpiece.
Nowadays, four eyes are better than two. Glasses are fashionable and make an individual appear just a bit more intelligent. Scandalous as it is, people who have perfect vision will wear frames that are purely for decoration. I support an individual’s right to fashion choices, but this particular spec issue is a major pet peeve. As a legitimate glasses wearer I should feel flattered, but I don’t. In fact, I take personal offense to these artificial glasses. If an individual is not in need of visionary aid, they should not have the privilege of wearing funky frames.
Folks always want to try on my eyeglasses, posing for a photo op. For a time, I was admittedly a bit of a spectacles slut, but I’ve turned over a new leaf. Recently I was getting down in Glasgow with some Halloween related fun when I encountered an uncomfortable situation. My pal and I had jaunted over to the Scooby Snack Truck to sample some of Glasgow’s famous late night delights (too much greasy goodness for this lady!). The chap ahead of us in the queue turned round for a friendly chat, complimenting us on our costume selection. I was dressed as an intelligent Little Red Riding Hood and my pal was a trusty witch (Editor – sorry to say we couldn’t find a photo of this stylish costume). The fellow then moved onto how amazing my specs were, and preceded to take them off my face! This was done without my permission and is a major breech of glasses etiquette. Being suddenly blinded against your will is uncomfortable. I am typically a happy-go-lucky gal, but at that moment I was obliged to take action. Feisty is what I became, forcefully speaking a few choice phrases (very unladylike) after recovering my dear spectacles.