Spectacles

You know I'm a big fan of old movies..."How to Marry a Millionaire" is one of my favorites. In that movie, Marilyn Monroe plays a girl who is tragically near-sighted, as well as vain, and carries her glasses around in her purse until she is safely in the powder room. She has NO idea what her date looks like, or how to order off the menu. At one point, she's sitting on the airplane (the wrong flight, of course), explaining her plight to the gentleman next to her. She tells him that guys don't make passes at girls who wear glasses. (I'm pretty sure she never really had that problem...see the picture....but she embodies my insecurities about the implements!)

I've sort of worn glasses since I was about three years old. I say "sort of", because I wore them rather like Marilyn...if my mother was around, I put them on; if I was in a social situation, I'd leave them in my purse. When I got to high school, I got contacts. And they HURT! So I didn't really wear them, either. Most of the time, I just sat at the front of the classroom, which had the unintended effect of getting me good grades. (So I didn't LOOK like the brain, but the teachers assumed I was more interested...)

I finally gave in, last week, and went to see the optometrist for the first time in about 6 years. Braving my insecurities, I slunk in the door, grabbed a People magazine, and prayed for better eyes...you know, miracles COULD happen...maybe....

The good doctor spent a lot of time on my eyes...better in one, better in two...what is the lowest line you can read clearly....little drops that make me look like a ghoul....

I was starting to get a little worried, because there were a lot of "hmmm"'s and "let's try this"'s. Finally he revealed that I'm a truly odd case; I have one far-sighted eye and one near-sighted eye, and my brain has trained itself to adapt the sight at a high rate. My noggin is basically doing the job of lenses. GREAT!!! Except that I still needed lenses, to help at night and with computer fatigue. DRATS!!!

They ushered me down the hall to the Wall O'Frames. Now, before going in, the Farmer gave me a budget. "Keep the frames under $200. Or else."

Have you seen frames for glasses, lately? Better yet, have you seen the bargain frames for glasses, lately? Well, let me tell you, it's enough to keep a girl in the powder room for the rest of the dance...that's all I have to say.

Finally, after 20 minutes of agony, I selected a pair. But on the side, they proudly proclaimed their designers, Juicy Couture. I finally got the courage up to ask the little girl who obviously supervised the area, whether they were, um, appropriate for my age and station in life. She all but patted my elderly, age-spotted hand and told me that the women who designed that line were in their 40's, and I might be able to carry it off.

My next choice was: glass or plastic. (Which is more green? Smaller carbon footprint?) I went with plastic, keeping my budget in mind. Extra super-duper-scratch-lint-smear-and-reflection-protection? When I hesitated, she told me that they had made a lot of advances since the last time I had gotten glasses. (I made a mental note to call Lily and make that appointment for my annual Covering O' The Gray...) Oh, all right; let's get the protection. Transition lenses...no-line bifocals? Well, by this point, I couldn't take anymore veiled references to my aged-ness, so YEAH!, and budget be damned. A girl has to have SOME luxuries...

The Farmer entered the salon, about this time, blinking from his eye-drops, and all but recoiled at me wearing the new frames. "What do you think, honey?", I ask him, expecting the usual answer of : "Yeah. Looks good. Whatever makes you happy, dear.", only to get: "I'll reserve comment until we get to the car...".

WHAT?

"Well," he mutters, "they sort of look like...cat-eye glasses. In a way."

I'm NOT going through that whole process again, so I grit my teeth and think of Marilyn. She looked pretty good in cat-eye glasses. Not that I'm Marilyn. A not-so-gracefully aging sort, maybe.

Fast forward to the next week, and I now have my glasses. And, just like the hair, the women think they are edgy and cute; the men think they are...a little...well....maybe....retro?

Marilyn Monroe sincerely had more going for her, but I can still relate to her role and self-conciousness with the spectacles. This morning, the Farmer said I looked like a sexy geek. Hmmm.