It all started innocently enough. I was killing time at the mall during an oil change, wandering in and out of my usual rainy-day haunts -- Sephora, Apple store, the Gap Trifecta. I turned down the corridor that leads to Nordstrom, not paying much attention and kinda jonesning for an Iced Americano, when, as if by tractor beam, I was sucked into the overpriced optical shop between Victoria's Secret and the Build-a-Bear Workshop. I don't remember what happened next but when I came to these were on my face and I was asking if they came in green, and a gaunt German salesman was telling me I have a fabulous face for rectangles. Whatever that means.
Every couple years I get restless and start shopping around for new glasses. Invariably I pick the high-priced pretentious kind from Denmark or France. I don't know why I do this; Perhaps I'm bored because my hairstyle hasn't changed for 17 years. (Except once, the regrettable chin-length bob of 2004: As if Shirley Temple and Carrot Top punished their naughty baby with a humiliating haircut. May it never, ever happen again.)
Since college I've been through gold wire frames ("I've found my first job, but good taste continues to elude me"), oval tortoiseshells ("I'm intellectual with an edge; It's in my copywriter job description"), pewter rectangles ("I'm feigning sophistication because I date men too old for me"), and the red cat's eyes currently working a dent into the bridge of my nose ("Welcome to the Insatiable Sexpot. You must be at least this smart to ride").
So now I'm up to funky green rectangles that will cost me yet another $300 and be seen by no one because I only wear them to read and stare at the computer. Is this a waste of money? No more than, say, the four pairs of boots I bought myself for my birthday last month. Perhaps I'll consider it a reward for all the hard work I've been putting into my blog. Oh -- and that stuff I do between 9 and 5.
They'll be my "I don't need a reason to spend 300 bucks on myself because I'm 30 and I work hard and if you have a problem with that you can kiss my fabulous ass" frames.