Making a Spectacle of Myself at the Eyeglass Store

I recently found myself in an eyeglass store, surrounded by hundreds of shiny new frames with vacant stares. I’m sure there weren’t that many frames available when I picked out my first pair. But I couldn’t see then, so I could be wrong.

I was around 10 at the time. And not only could I not read the big E at the top of the eye chart without correction, I didn’t know it was there. Thus began my journey with glasses, contacts and eventually laser surgery. And that changed everything. Suddenly my eye-Q was 20-20. I could see my clock when I woke up in the morning. I could see the inside of my shower. I scoffed at the Big E, though I was a little dismayed about how the inside of my shower looked.

I went on happily without glasses for many years, but my ophthalmologist had warned me that even laser surgery couldn’t stop presbyopia, the clinical term for old eyes. Either he was right, or they started making newspaper print smaller.

And that’s how I came to be in the optical shop generally making a spectacle of myself. I was so overwhelmed by all the choices that when a friendly technician asked if she could help me, I said, “Yes. Would you pick out some glasses for me?”

She wouldn’t but she did narrow the selection when I told her I wanted frames that came with magnetic clip-on sunglasses. If they could also not look ridiculous on me, so much the better.

She was optimistic. I wasn’t. I knew too much. When I need advice on anything from car maintenance to choosing a pineapple, I go to my good friend Google. But what I found there wasn’t particularly helpful.

Several sites said eyewear should reflect your best feature, for example eye or hair color. My best feature is my instep and I don’t see how that helps.

I also read that frame shape should contrast with face shape. One website recommended oval or round frames for my somewhat rectangular face. But another said something to the effect that it’s a free country and we should all wear whatever we want. Open-minded, but not very helpful.

Several of the sites I’d visited said that frame size should be proportional to face size. That makes sense. Several of the frames I tried on stuck out like rearview mirrors on a motorcycle. It wasn’t a good look.

Finally, frames should be compatible with your coloring. You might not believe this, but I’ve been told I’m cool. At least my coloring is. And cool coloring calls for cool glasses, or rather, glasses in cool colors—black, silver, blue. I wasn’t excited about wearing glasses again, cool or otherwise, so I told the technician I wanted a pair no one would notice, sort of like…contacts.

But she had other ideas. She said her philosophy of glasses is, “If you have to wear glasses, wear glasses.” In other words, be bold. And I had to admit, she looked stylish in her oversized red frames.

But I know how fashion works. You buy the latest thing and 10 years later, you see a picture of yourself wearing it and wonder what you’d been thinking.

I intended to keep whatever glasses I buy until my prescription changed or I broke them playing tether ball, whichever comes first.

So I finally chose a classic black frame. And after the technician tallied up the price, I decided to follow my doctor’s orders and wear them all the time. My lenses came with a lot of options—anti-scratch protection, anti-reflective coating—but Blue Tooth location tracking wasn’t one of them. And I can’t afford to replace them if I lose them.

And so, after many years without glasses, I’m back to wearing them all the time. I’m getting used to it. It’s nice to see and they’re cool. Their color is anyway.

Dorothy Rosby is the author of three books of humorous essays including Alexa’s a Spy and Other Things to Be Ticked off About, Humorous Essays on the Hassles of Our Time. Contact drosby@rushmore.com.