My 11-year-old self would be thrilled: I need glasses!
Come with me on my search for the dream specs
Hello! This week’s post is for paid subscribers (you can upgrade at any time, and I will love you for it) but I also wanted to share an article I was commissioned to write by ELLE this week on tradwife content, how it’s nothing more than conspicuous leisure, and why it’s sinister in our era of fragile reproductive rights, that you can read in full here.
When I was 11, the only thing I wanted more than to hold the hand of Christian Slater (OK it was really Kevin Costner) was to have glasses. I would pretend to struggle to read the bottom line at eye tests (they had my number) and borrow my mum’s reading glasses around the house. I suspect my desire to have glasses came from being a middle child who was constantly craving attention. It was the same reason I wanted braces and a broken bone in a cast. I know this wasn’t just me. Please tell me this wasn’t just me. But I never got my wish, I had perfect eyesight. Rats.
Last week I went to my first eye test in probably - eesh - fifteen years. I sat on the chair in Specsavers and actually told the truth about what I could and could not see. And lo and behold, a mere 30 years after longing for them, I was told I needed glasses for reading and using my laptop. I was thrilled. In my head I started putting together a mood board of all the stylish spectacle wearers I could think of: Charlotte Rampling, Chloë Sevigny, Anna Karina, Rashida Jones, Gloria Steinem. Geek chic midlife era here I come. I’m so ready.
So I headed out this week in search of my perfect pair. I went to independent shops, department stores and opticians. Here’s how I got on.