Three, two, one...contacts!
The Great Contact Lens Experiment continues, with all the drama and pantomime you would expect from a man making a complete hash of jamming his non too clean fingertips into his increasingly bloodshot eyes in an inelegant attempt to fit a tiny disc of wet slippery plastic balanced on a wet slippery finger onto a wet slippery eyeball.
I expect the choice to try contacts instead of glasses is a vanity thing, so it’s good that the end result is that I look like somebody from a Wanted poster in the Wild West (Midlands?), with the wild, piggy eyes of somebody seen without their glasses giving me the appearance of a fellow who is both pleased and surprised at his recent successful bank raid in Fargo yet at the same time assured that he is one step closer to dancing the hemp fandango as a result.
Seen without their glasses, people look odd.
It can be disconcerting enough when somebody puts their glasses on to peer at something, especially if they are wearing a white coat and your trousers are crumpled round your ankles as you stand in a chilly consulting room, but its worse still if somebody takes their glasses off, particularly if you are on a first date and the restaurant was already 'romantically lit' (i.e. gloomy) in the first place.
They can change a mood as readily as they can change a face. They are a sign of imperfect vision yet are taken as a sign of intellect. They can look sinister, they can look cool and, with that iconic addition, the fist-sized lump of fabric plaster holding one leg to the front of the frame, they can identify you as a train enthusiast more readily than even standing at the end of a railway station platform in the rain with your notepad and smelling of crab-paste sandwiches going warm in tupperwear.
Because glasses are great. At the very least they allow you to see properly, and the choice of frame if, it’s the right one, can be far cooler than any haircut, haircuts being prone to damage by wind, hats and sudden changes in fashion which mean you go from cool to tool in a nanomoment.
So why contacts? Well, if I ever do go mountain-boarding again it would be good to know that if I pull off my signature move, the Epic Face Plant, it won't result in my specs being reduced to kit form, and it also means that I get to wear those really cool wraparound sunglasses that make you look young, hip and athletic. In my own head. If not actually on it.
I expect the choice to try contacts instead of glasses is a vanity thing, so it’s good that the end result is that I look like somebody from a Wanted poster in the Wild West (Midlands?), with the wild, piggy eyes of somebody seen without their glasses giving me the appearance of a fellow who is both pleased and surprised at his recent successful bank raid in Fargo yet at the same time assured that he is one step closer to dancing the hemp fandango as a result.
Seen without their glasses, people look odd.
It can be disconcerting enough when somebody puts their glasses on to peer at something, especially if they are wearing a white coat and your trousers are crumpled round your ankles as you stand in a chilly consulting room, but its worse still if somebody takes their glasses off, particularly if you are on a first date and the restaurant was already 'romantically lit' (i.e. gloomy) in the first place.
They can change a mood as readily as they can change a face. They are a sign of imperfect vision yet are taken as a sign of intellect. They can look sinister, they can look cool and, with that iconic addition, the fist-sized lump of fabric plaster holding one leg to the front of the frame, they can identify you as a train enthusiast more readily than even standing at the end of a railway station platform in the rain with your notepad and smelling of crab-paste sandwiches going warm in tupperwear.
Because glasses are great. At the very least they allow you to see properly, and the choice of frame if, it’s the right one, can be far cooler than any haircut, haircuts being prone to damage by wind, hats and sudden changes in fashion which mean you go from cool to tool in a nanomoment.
So why contacts? Well, if I ever do go mountain-boarding again it would be good to know that if I pull off my signature move, the Epic Face Plant, it won't result in my specs being reduced to kit form, and it also means that I get to wear those really cool wraparound sunglasses that make you look young, hip and athletic. In my own head. If not actually on it.
Labels: Contact lenses, Contacts, Fashion, Glasses, Specs, Spectacles, Vision
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