I’ve been one of the girls who wear glasses since I was 8 or 9 years old. That’s when the good Sisters at Catholic school discovered I could not see what they were writing on the blackboard. So they moved me to a nearer-the-board seat in my third grade classroom and recommended me for vision screening.
I failed the in-school vision test and soon found myself at my mother’s optometrist’s office, where I received my first pair of glasses.
I came of glasses-wearing age in the 1970s, a time of plastic frames in an assortment of both mod colors and earth tones. I selected frames based on fashion, and my mother verified with the doctor that my selection could accommodate my requisite lenses, as they approximated Coke bottle bottoms (the euphemism for thick lenses at the time). Throughout the ’70s and ’80s as I kept up with fashion, my frames kept getting bigger, and thus, my glass (yes, they were glass) lenses kept getting heavier.
So I appreciated when lighter-weight plastic lenses became available. As technology continued to develop, even my former Coke bottle bottoms could be transformed into not only lighter but thinner plastic lenses that by the late 1990s could be adorned with thin metal frames.
Throughout my adult life, I’ve usually needed a stronger lens prescription every two to four years to accommodate my changing vision. And over the years I’ve become less concerned with frame fashion, instead opting for function. My first question to each glasses salesperson is, “What frames will work with my lens prescription?”
That again was my first question to the sales rep last week, when on my 55th birthday I selected frames for a new pair of bifocals (excuse me, “progressive lenses,” so called for all you older Baby Boomers who can’t accept your increasing age or diminishing eyesight). I chose not from the designer frames section (too expensive) nor from the discount rack, though I wish I could have purchased low-cost frames. Luckily I found suitably functional frames at a middle-of-the-road price point.
I don’t mind wearing glasses; I like to see clearly. I’m not interested in contact lenses. I don’t even like eye drops, so why would I willingly put little plastic disks into my eyes? So a girl who wears glasses I will continue to be.
P.S. For the record: It has been my experience that boys do make passes at girls who wear glasses. More so in my 20s. Now, not so much — except for that one guy to whom I’ve been married for nearly 29 years, which suits me just fine.