I went for another eye exam today. As far as I can tell these multifocal contact lenses never really act as prescribed. You’ve got to tweak the prescription by trial-and-error.
As long as I was at the mall Helaine and Stef suggested I get sunglasses. Glare has been a problem lately. I should wear sunglasses as a matter of course anyway to protect my sight.
Getting sunglasses is different than getting fashionably acceptable sunglasses.
Stefanie has been installed as our family fashionista. I maintain my status as prime candidate to be cast on “What Not To Wear.” As long as we both understand that paradigm we get along fine.
The plan was to go to H&M, try a few pairs on and send photos from the iPhone to Stef for her approval.
I don’t want to sound old, but this is a crazy advantage (or burden) of our modern era. It’s as if Stef is there with me… well it would have been if there had been cell service at the sunglass rack at H&M. Buried deep within the store the answer to “Can you hear me now,” would have been no!
I was in a jam. Whatever I like is by definition the wrong thing!
Two young girls were walking by. “Excuse me girls,” I said in my best “I don’t want to sound like a sexual predator” voice, “could I ask a favor?”
They were fashionably dressed and willing to help. I’d struck gold at the mall!
They gave thumbs down to a pair of wraparounds. They approved the aviator glasses I did buy for $6.
“You look like Tom Cruise,” one said.
In the abstract that’s fine, but I’m guessing he’s old enough to be their father!