Sunday, March 21, 2010

The Joy of Specs

When my mother was 18, so the family tale goes, she got glasses because she thought they would give her an intellectual air. This story wedged itself into my unconscious somewhere, and I've always dreamed of the day when I , too, could lift my IQ with some fancy eye-jewels - at least, for those few glorious seconds before I spoke.

Imagine my joy when recently my sight degenerated enough to require reading glasses. A joy that was sadly, short-lived.

Friends, I hate to shatter your dreams, but failing eyesight is not the fun fair you may expect it to be. I carried many illusions about the vision-impaired until I joined their ranks, and so here I will cast aside the curtain of secrecy that has veiled for too long this private world.

When a four-eyes, in conversation with you, peers over their glasses intently, they are not gripped by your opinions.

In actual fact they are they are awkwardly juggling their distance vision and their close-up sight.
When they take off their glasses and rub the bridge of their nose, you have not just touched them in some poignant place with your thoughts.

No, their nose hurts.

And while it is true that glasses are an excellent prop for going from sexy secretary:

to party girl:

On the whole, it's actually quite annoying. Although I think they definitely make me look more intelligent.

This post is dedicated to my sister and photographer Sam, who tried on my glasses during this conversation, realised she could read more clearly, and was thrilled at the thought that she too was in need of bespectaclisationment. (See: before I wore glasses I would never have known that word.)


  1. Great post! I love the photos, you do look very smart indeed.

    There's also that thing with specs when you've been wearing them all day then you take them off you have a red mark between your eyes all evening. Not cools.

  2. Oh La La! You are very smart and funky!


Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.