"I hope I need glasses this time" I said, as I sat in the magic chair. The optician laughed.
I wasn't joking.
Many moons ago I gave in to the fact that my once luscious locks (think Cindy Crawford with an Adam's apple)
were past their sell-by-date, since then I've constantly been on the look out for face furniture to compensate for
my now perma-shaved bonce. A well kept beard has helped, like a comfortable red sofa inviting you into a room,
I've always felt it needed a couple of big window frames above it to complete the overall ambience.
Spectacles, giggs, bins, goggles, whatever you like to call them – I've always had a thing for eyewear.
In the words of Iris Apfel:
"When I needed to wear glasses, I decided I'd wear glasses. All the better to see you with."
So if you're going to don a pair – make them count.
Oh! And my eye test result this time round? I needed reading glasses. At last! Admittedly I'm no Mr Magoo,
but the worlds smallest prescription was excuse enough to shop for my very own giggs (bottom picture).
They're not in Iris's league just yet, but I'm working on it.