
Reference photos taken in Specsavers.
As you may have noticed but been too polite to say anything, my glasses were getting to be a bit fucked. Getting on for nine years old the lenses were scratched, the arms were padded with duct tape and they had a tendency to sit wonky. But then four years of farming, decorating, refuse collection, gardening and misc manual labouring will do that. So it was time to bite the bullet and go get some new ones. Andy and Alex were on hand to help with the trauma of deciding, helped by the realisation that there aren’t a lot of hidden costs in your modern optician these days (unlike dentists) and I now have two new pairs.
Interesting to note that the style I would previously have jokingly called “new media wanker glasses” (thick black rectangular) is now the norm. In fact I now have a pair (not pictured), which is fair as I’m pretty much a new media wanker these days. The other is a rather distinguished pair of wire-frames (bottom row, 2nd) that compliment my balding head in an Uncle Pete kind of way. Both are thin rectangles which is messing with my head as I adjust to the different field of vision The top bit has vanished while the sides are all wide-angle. Also of note is that my prescription had barely changed in the last decade.
Getting new glasses has a strange psychological aspect. I’ve now changed my face is a subtle but definite way. And thanks to the 2 for 1 offer I can switch faces at whim. I’m not sure I welcome this new daily choice in my life, but I’m sure I’ll deal with it.
New glasses!