"I see," said the blind man.
Last evening I had harped long enough, and my mother finally drove me to The Eyeglass Shoppe for new glasses. My eyes had been examined way back in March, so I actually could've ordered frames then had I not been such a dickweed and worn contact lenses to the appointment. But because I didn't, trying on prospective specs was pointless, as I couldn't see a damn thing. Yesterday, however, I was prepared -- two-month-old contacts stinging my tearing eyes and everything.
Now, I am still very much in love with my current, vintage granny glasses. These frames are my babies. I found them at a fleamarket in Chelsea, NYC two summers ago while searching for 1970s' aviator sunglasses with/for my brother, and I instantly needed to buy them. What made the purchase even better -- aside from that they're AWESOME -- is that Zachary found his aviators at the same booth, and we got both pairs for $15 (lenses later cost over $100, but it was still cheaper than new frames). These glasses are a tiny piece of Old New York that I wear everyday. That said, they are old, the earpieces are bent from me lying on them, and the looseness of wear-and-tear causes them to continually slide down my nose.*
I spent my afternoon yesterday searching for vintage eyeglasses online, and I found really good things. If only there was a camera in the room when I stumbled onto a few dozen 1940s' ART-DECO/RHINESTONE frames on eBay. Only one problem presented itself: buying glasses when you can't try them on, and my face is too small to gamble away $170. But my God, tell me those aren't beautiful? I may need to save up and treat myself to them, if I ever get a job.
As expected, the shoppe didn't have a wide range of vintage/vintage-inspired looks, although by the end I had narrowed my choices down to two styles, one of which was quite Mod. I scoured the tiny store, pulling thick-framed, trendy looks from the cases and telling my mother to peruse the higher shelves, which, coincidently, display the expensive, designer eyeglasses that I'm partial to. When I had nine or 10 options, my mother decided it was time to cut (read: piss) me off, and I had to make a decision. I vetoed over half within five seconds of trying each on, and I repeatedly dismissed suggestions from the overly helpful representative. (The past four times I've bought glasses, the same man, Alan, has waited on me. I don't know how I got stuck with this bubbly chick.)
For some reason, I disliked anything trendy, plastic and thick-rimmed (besides the Mod option), a style I very much sought four years ago. Maybe it's because everybody these days has black, rectangular frames? I'm unsure, because trendiness, while never my overall goal, has never been a negative to me. And aren't my vintage frames supporting the Retro Trend of today, anyway? Conversely, I disliked most wire-framed, professional looks as well -- except one, and I knew pretty much immediately that these were my new glasses. (Kind of like shopping for a wedding dress.)
*Happy McGee tightened the hinges on my babies while we were there. They're almost as snug as the day I found them. Have to be careful, though, because besides adjusting the screws, not much can be done, as the plastic is old and might break if they try to heat/bend the earpieces.
Now, I am still very much in love with my current, vintage granny glasses. These frames are my babies. I found them at a fleamarket in Chelsea, NYC two summers ago while searching for 1970s' aviator sunglasses with/for my brother, and I instantly needed to buy them. What made the purchase even better -- aside from that they're AWESOME -- is that Zachary found his aviators at the same booth, and we got both pairs for $15 (lenses later cost over $100, but it was still cheaper than new frames). These glasses are a tiny piece of Old New York that I wear everyday. That said, they are old, the earpieces are bent from me lying on them, and the looseness of wear-and-tear causes them to continually slide down my nose.*
I spent my afternoon yesterday searching for vintage eyeglasses online, and I found really good things. If only there was a camera in the room when I stumbled onto a few dozen 1940s' ART-DECO/RHINESTONE frames on eBay. Only one problem presented itself: buying glasses when you can't try them on, and my face is too small to gamble away $170. But my God, tell me those aren't beautiful? I may need to save up and treat myself to them, if I ever get a job.
As expected, the shoppe didn't have a wide range of vintage/vintage-inspired looks, although by the end I had narrowed my choices down to two styles, one of which was quite Mod. I scoured the tiny store, pulling thick-framed, trendy looks from the cases and telling my mother to peruse the higher shelves, which, coincidently, display the expensive, designer eyeglasses that I'm partial to. When I had nine or 10 options, my mother decided it was time to cut (read: piss) me off, and I had to make a decision. I vetoed over half within five seconds of trying each on, and I repeatedly dismissed suggestions from the overly helpful representative. (The past four times I've bought glasses, the same man, Alan, has waited on me. I don't know how I got stuck with this bubbly chick.)
For some reason, I disliked anything trendy, plastic and thick-rimmed (besides the Mod option), a style I very much sought four years ago. Maybe it's because everybody these days has black, rectangular frames? I'm unsure, because trendiness, while never my overall goal, has never been a negative to me. And aren't my vintage frames supporting the Retro Trend of today, anyway? Conversely, I disliked most wire-framed, professional looks as well -- except one, and I knew pretty much immediately that these were my new glasses. (Kind of like shopping for a wedding dress.)
*Happy McGee tightened the hinges on my babies while we were there. They're almost as snug as the day I found them. Have to be careful, though, because besides adjusting the screws, not much can be done, as the plastic is old and might break if they try to heat/bend the earpieces.