I got new glasses last night.
I love them. They're called "Book Smart," so obviously, they were named for me.
It's a good thing they're not called "Humble."
I have been bespectacled (just making words up as I go here) since I was eight years old, and this is my seventh pair of glasses. There was that blue squarish pair in fifth grade, and some maroon wire ones with snazzy cutting edge magnetic sunglasses technology in eighth. There was the pair before this that I absolutely loved, and there was that cute plastic pair that mysteriously snapped right in half during college.
I can remember which glasses I wore to my Confirmation, which ones I wore when I got my hair cut in layers for the first time. I know which pair I cast aside when I got my first order of contacts, and I know which pair I returned to two years ago when I found out I could no longer wear contacts. If you name a period in my life, I can tell you which glasses I wore through it. And it's safe to say that I’ve some a long, long way since that very first pair.
A loooooong way.
Apparently, back in 1996, the name of the glasses game was the bigger the frames, the better. You weren’t cool unless your frames touched your cheeks when you smiled.
I must have been the coolest kid in third grade.
And if the gigantic glasses didn't edge me right on into the cool kid category, I'm sure my teal "Love Bug" t-shirt and floral high waisted shorts, matching sleeveless golf shirt TUCKED IN, please, sure did.
I wish I could use the excuse "I had poor eyesight, and knew not what I was wearing." But obviously, that's a lie, because there's no way I missed a thing with those gigantic two inch lenses.
I hope that since it was 1998, everyone dressed like this. Or, maybe I just didn't have the greatest fashion sense.
But hey, at least I'm book smart.