I have had to wear glasses since the 5th grade.  Somewhere is a dank shoebox with a school picture of me in a groovy turtleneck and octagonal glasses.  And every other year I got a reminder from the Optometrist to update my perscription.  I went from octagonal frames, to oblong frames, to aviator style frames, to huge plastic hula hoops that kept falling off my face.  So, sick and tired of dealing with the inconvenience, I quit wearing glasses.

Until six years ago. 

I started wearing glasses again, but only because I couldn’t tell when my house was dirty.  Just for fun, I dug out an old pair of wire-frames I had gotten in Florida and put them on.  My carpet came into focus.  Aghast, I stared at the chunks of lint, food, and dried-out foliage that suddenly materialized.  Was that a dead body behind the couch?  I went to the mirror and looked at myself.  Big mistake.  When did I get those lines?  And those pouches?  And that glorious moustache?

I had to face the fact that I had been operating blind.  I needed those glasses.  How many times had I waved at the wrong people?  How many times had I gone out of the house thinking that my hair was okay when it looked like a mushroom?  How many people had I run over, thinking that I had hit a pile of leaves?  There was no way out.  I had to start wearing glasses again.

It wasn’t long after that – two years to be precise (just four years ago) – that I had to update my perscription to bi-focals.  Thank goodness for no-line.   By then, plastic frames were popular, but the young man selling me the frames nixed the idea.  I knew that he was considering my age.  I knew that he would rather fork his own eyeball than have a 40-something-year-old woman wear what HE was wearing.  He forced me into old lady wire-frames.

Until two weeks ago when I had to get my perscription updated again. 

It took all day to find just the right pair.  I tried on every frame in town.  More than once.  This time, I chose the plastic frames that I wanted.  I wanted frames that looked like something a writer would wear.  A New Yorker.  An artist.  A strange person.  Anything, ANYTHING that did not say ‘Old Lady that regularly shops at Wal-mart in the Ozarks’.  I didn’t care that they were a shocking change from my old pair.  I did not care that I had to get them super-sized to fit the bi-focal lens.  I did not care that the earpieces almost met in the middle behind my head.  I was no longer living in the 80’s, baby.  

It was going to take two weeks to get them fitted out with my perscription.  Relunctantly, I handed my choice over to be sent off and went home.  The next morning I woke up bombarded with doubts.  Were the frames really that much better looking than my old pair?  Did I make the right choice?  Did I?  Did I? I decided to go back to Eye-Mart and visit them.

When I arrived, I found another pair like the ones I had selected, tried them on, and looked in the mirror.  I was horrified.  I looked like that old lady in the Old Navy commercials.  And why didn’t anyone tell me I looked cross-eyed in them?  That I looked like I had only one eyebrow?

When I went back home, wailing to my husband about it, he assured me that he thought they had looked fine when I chose them.  That I hadn’t made a costly mistake.  That I was imagining things because I was tired.

Finally, the big day came.  My glasses were ready for pick up. 

My husband was right.  I would get used to them.  They weren’t as bad as I had thought.  By the end of the day, I was downright fond of them. 

Then I wore them in public in front of people who knew me in my old glasses.  They all, one by one, eyed me oddly, silently, no doubt thinking, ‘If you can’t say anything nice about someone, then don’t say anything at all.’

Then my mother saw me for the first time in my new glasses.  She, too, stayed silent.

“Mom, did you see my new glasses?”  I asked her.

“Yes,” she said slowly, looking puzzled.  “But you didn’t used to wear glasses, did you?”


“Yes, I did.  I’ve been wearing glasses for the last six years.”

“But not all the time.”


Well, no matter.  In the end I had two friends compliment me on my new glasses.  Two out of 900+ people can’t all be wrong, now can they? 

Anyone out there have any fashion choices gone wrong that they want to tell us about?   That perm?   That necktie?   The tube top fiasco?  Remember, to leave a comment, click on the ‘Comments’ tag at the end of this blog, and don’t forget to check out the latest Photoblog of fashion disasters on the right!

‘And now for something completely different’ – click on the links below for your laugh of the day and watch with the sound up: 



Have fun!

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

16 Responses to OLD SIX-EYES

  1. Thea, I finally opted for the kind with no frames so my eyebrows would show. It looks like I am wearing nothing except a strange thingy over my nose and earpieces. As long as I have myself fooled that I look OK in them, I just dare anyone to tell me different. I tell myself that the Calvin Klien name on the case makes it all OK……..

  2. Slarty says:

    Sadly, I didn’t notice the glasses at first. That is a good thing, though. It meant they weren’t shocking and they didn’t make you look cross-eyed…which would have been shocking. Anyway, they kind of resemble Maddy’s stylish glasses that I am so used to seeing, so they didn’t strike me as anything unusual. They fit you just fine. Beautimous! Glamourful! Fantabulous!

  3. Thea says:

    Margaret, that’s what I told myself after all my agonizing… I, too, have the little CK on my glasses. Hey, he’s a designer. People pay him big bucks just for the privilege of wearing whatever he thinks up.
    Yep, I think we were both wise. :)
    Unless my particular CK is really the monogram of some Eye-Mart employee named Chuck Kowalski…
    Then it would explain alot…

  4. Thea says:

    Thank you, Slarty! Your comment just explains your cautious, slightly puzzled response when Randy said to you this weekend, “Hey, did you see Thea’s new glasses?” And I love Maddy’s glasses. But then, Maddy could probably wear anything and still look cute… even a Bozo nose and a leisure suit…
    Thank you again for your reassurance, Slarty!

  5. Slarty says:

    Yes, I was actually slightly disappointed that Randy had to point it out to me…that I didn’t notice first. I like to think of myself as an observant person. Obviously I’m not that. I am sure I would have noticed had we been sitting in Panera…you talking and me only noticing what is being reflected off of your glasses. ;)

  6. Thea says:

    Slarty, you don’t know how reassured I am that you never even noticed the change. :) That means that I’m NOT A FREAK! YAY!!!

  7. Snuffygump says:

    I would have been the first to comment early on this morning had I actually hit the post comment button. All my morning musings over your latest blog vanished like the morning dew. I only discovered the fact much later as we were stepping out the front door to make a short jaunt over to Butte.
    I guess, now that several hours have worn by, I may be able to give a gist of my former ruminations.
    I too in the past 8 months have purchased new eyeglasses. I would like to be brave like you Thea, but every one of the new frames that are offered up here, in the next to the last frontier, would require that I purchase two frames to be worn, one piggy back on the other . They just will not accomodate my bifocals. I fell back on my upbringing ( think of all the starving babies in Africa, etc.) and opted to simply reuse my old frames. After all, there is still some fake metallic paint left on them. This isn’t all that I wrote this morning, but that time as passed, and I’m in a different frame of mind.
    Fashion faux pas? Since I pretty much dress like a female lumber jack on a daily basis, I can say that I am one notch above what everyone else in this town wears. At least I know better to not wear rubber flip flops outside in -20 below zero weather. I still have all of my toes.

  8. Slarty says:

    Snuffygump, did you find your lost comment? I think I did. I was checking out some of Thea’s newly uploaded photos when I discovered it. OR maybe that was done on purpose and I only think I know what I am talking about. That is a good possibility.

  9. Thea says:

    Yes, that is pretty much the same comment. Thanks, Slarty! I recognized it when she posted it a second time and emailed her to tell her that it was under one of the pictures.

  10. Snuffygump says:

    That was all just a test. No really, I’ve been scaring myself lately. I’m in the market for a new fashion brain.

  11. Dee says:

    Fun post & and just read your biker post too ! (Hopped over here from June’s blog!)

  12. Thea says:

    Thank you, Dee! Thanks for hopping over from June’s HILARIOUS blogs :) Hoppy to have you!
    (That retarded pun was intentional… courtesy of my husband who is reading over my shoulder.)

  13. Purplume says:

    I love the glasses. The red is so enlivening and your eyes are beautiful.
    Everyone says I should wear glasses but I don’t. It’s not because of vanity. I KNOW I would look intelligent in glasses and that would be a plus.
    I love not seeing so much of the mess. I am farsighted and I like it that way.

    re fashion choices. When I was 40 and divorced I got a jeans skirt. It was a little above my knees. I loved it. I remember my boyfriend’s ex girlfriend said 40 year olds can’t wear jeans skirts.
    I had missed the memo and I’m still glad I did. My legs are probably my best feature.

  14. Thea says:

    Thank you, Purplume!!

    And good for you! So called ‘fashion rules’ are just things made up by bossy people based on their bodies and their opinions. It sounds like the ex-girlfriend was jealous.

  15. Joshua Moore says:

    THEA I think your glasses look wonderful on you and don’t let other people tell you otherwise

  16. Thea says:

    Thank you, Josh! You and Trish were the two friends I mentioned in my blog :)

Comments are closed.