Go Get Yourself Some Cheap Sunglasses

So here's a problem I've never had before.

I wear BIG Jackie/Anna Wintour/Edith Head-type sunglasses. I have since high school. The thing is, I can't find the damned things since the surgery. (BTW, in a little bit of blog continuity, Edith Head designed the costumes for Tippi Hedren in The Birds).

The other day, I was up in town and had some time to kill around lunch, so I ducked into the Filene's Basement to get replacements...I had an idea of what sort of sunglasses I wanted--something different! A complete 180 from what I had before! Although, I secretly want a pair of gigantic Roberto Cavalli's, of the sort favored by WAGs (ask your favorite British person what that means). I guess you could say they're extremely vulgar; I like them a lot.


A $400 pair of sunglasses not in my future, I picked up a frameless style for $9.99, which also had the benefit of being very light on the still-sensitive nose.

Whenever I shopped for sunglasses pre-nose job, I always pondered, "Does my nose look big in these glasses?" much like other people would wonder if their bums looked big in a pair of pants. Hence why I bought enormous sunglasses--to make everything else look smaller. And sunglasses would just sort of rest on my bumpy nose and I never gave it much thought. Freed from the first problem, I never considered the second.

So there I am, at a parking garage at 17th and K, waiting for the valet to bring my car up, leaning against a pillar, reading Pride and Prejudice (if you're not from here, or from a city, and think valet parking must be sort of cool or glamorous...It's not. It takes forever, and then you've got to give the guy a dollar after paying $15 for the privilege of leaving your car in his hands for an hour), trying to look nonchalant--except I'm fiddling with the glasses every 10 seconds. Mr. Collins is SUCH a tool...I wish someone without any manners would tell him to shut up already about Rosings....Oh, there go the sunglasses again, sliding down my nose. Handsome man walks by...sunglasses fly right off my face. He stares at me. Bend the nose-rest things....maybe the sunglasses are crooked now, but there's no mirror handy and I'm right there in front of God and man, fiddling with my wardrobe. Quelle horreur! This is not the soigné ideal I had in mind.

A day later of fiddling, the damned things still won't stay on my face.

Anyhow....these are the daily struggles I go through. Next time, I'm going to write about something that you might actually care about.