In December, my glasses broke. They didn’t come apart, mind you, they broke like a brittle bone.
Not that there’s ever a good time to break your glasses, but in the middle of Christmas shopping isn’t the best time to have to suddenly shell out a few hundred bucks. But since I’d need a guide dog and a white cane to get around without them I didn’t have a lot of choice. (Actually, I also have contacts. But some days if I haven’t slept well or I’m under the weather or I’m under the gun on a deadline, my middle-aged eyes resent the contact lenses and turn as red as a blister.)
So, when my husband got home from work we headed to the optical department at the nearby Shopko’s. (As luck would have it, I still had a valid prescription on hand from the previous year’s eye exam, so I only needed to find frames.)
After trying on and looking in the mirror at myself modeling like 57 different pairs of glasses, I narrowed it down to my two top choices.
But, I just couldn’t decide.
Hubs was with me. However, he was absolutely NOT going to bear any responsibility for my selection. (We’ve been married 30 years and he’s a smart man).
The sales person did express an opinion, but since I didn’t know her from Eve, I had no reason to trust her advice.
So, I turned to my pals at Chicks on the Case. I snapped selfies wearing each of the contenders, texted a pitiful SOS and asked the ladies to weigh in. We’re an opinionated bunch. (I’m sure that comes as a shock.) My fear was there might be no clear winner. I needn’t have worried. All the Chicks, except one, chose the same frames — which I decided to order. In defense of the lone dissenting Chick, I had narrowed it down to my two faves, so the pair she chose was a close second, to my mind.
Just to seal the deal, a friend in town happened by the store — and she preferred the same frames as the majority of the Chicks. Since she had seen them on me in person, not just in a poor quality photo, I felt confident enough with the frames to hand my credit card to the woman at the counter.
Speaking of photos, the ones posted here are not the ones I texted to the Chicks. While these aren’t glamour shots, and I’m not terribly vain, I prefer not to frighten readers. I’m willing for my blogmates to see me without a dab of make-up, hair in need of washing (even combing might have helped), and a gray-green complexion brought on by fluorescent lighting. The Chicks have already seen me at Malice before I’d had any coffee, which is truly scary.
I’m liking the new frames, which are chocolate brown on top and turquoise green along the bottom and sides — although I never would’ve imagined myself choosing green ones. I guess that’s why it’s imperative for you try on every pair of frames in the store before buying — just in case.
I’ve worn specs since the fourth grade. The best part about getting glasses at the time was that I no longer had to sit in the front row just to see the chalkboard.
Over these many, many years, I’ve had frames that were brown, gold, silver, red, and purple (twice), including styles reminiscent of Granny Clampett, Warren Buffett, and Elton John.
Lisa Q, Mathews assures me the new frames are understated hip. I need all the help I can get in the “hip” department. Truth be told, I could use a replacement.
Do you ever have a tough time making up your mind before making a purchase? How do you finally decide? Please share in comments.