Have been given to think this week about that time-worn trope embodied in Ms Parker's apothegm that
Men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses
having been reading some collected film reviews of C A Lejeune* including one in which she takes a hearty codfish to
[P]lain girl [blossoms] into a tearing beauty by the simple device of taking off
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I think we are supposed to believe that people in films get contact lenses, though they never manifest any of the red-eye or 'Bugger, I came out without my saline solution' or other troubles of lens-wearing. My favourite transformation of that kind is in The Princess Diaries, where the heroine gets her hair straightened and it stays that way permanently, not even frizzing up when she spends a night by a lake with an amorous cousin in the sequel.
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Incidentally, do you think the sexy-librarian fetish is based on the possibility that she might take off her glasses and let down her hair, and the tension is more exciting than the actual sight of her doing so?
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Furthermore, the previously sexually unfulfilled Toshiko is getting lots. How can we tell? She's wearing a sweater unbuttoned down to her (remarkably pretty) cleavage.
Ah, coding, how do I love thee.
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This was the motto of a large part of my teens and twenties. I still hold to it, within the bounds of looking like a reasonably together adult on the days I teach.
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