I had an eye test the other day. I answered all the questions truthfully and with enthusiasm.

Which is clearer, red or green? Green!

What about now? Red!

Which is clearer, #3 or #4? 3, definitely 3!

If I put this lens on, is it clearer now? Yes, oh yes!

At the end of the test, he told me I could probably do with a prescription.

I FAILED?????

You’re slightly short-sighted.

Well that’s just great. So now I have a professional diagnosis of only being able to see things clearly if they are in front of my face. Can’t see too far ahead. Anything in the distance may be blurry. I suppose I was never too good at planning ahead.

Before I let my inner Eeyore take hold and carry on this strain of doom and gloom, a thought strikes.

Am I missing an opportunity here? This could be fun! A reason to go shopping. A new must-have (no, really) accessory. A new way to channel my inner style icon. And best of all, a way to look intelligent even when thinking vacuous thoughts.

Oh glasses, I can see clearly now.

There is more good news. Those very stylish Carla Zampatti sunglasses that caught my eye (from close range) can be made with my prescription. So I can get wrinkle-protection to go with eyesight-correction. 2-in-1 anti-ageing. Bring it on.

The thought of putting contact lenses anywhere near my eyeballs fills my heart with dread and makes my skin tingle. Not even the possibility of getting green lenses and pretending I am Esmeralda from The Hunchback of Notre Dame is enough to convince me. So I try to think of stylish people that wear glasses.

But from somewhere in the far recesses of my brain where large quantities of (sometimes useless) words hang out, a Dorothy Parker quote hurtles forward: “Men seldom make passes/ At girls who wear glasses.” I send that one promptly back to the vault because a) completely irrelevant, b) who cares? and c) Sophia Loren.

Also, I don’t have to look too far (luckily, because apparently I can’t) for inspiration. My beautiful mother wore, in the 70s, super stylish black-rimmed glasses that made her look like the Greek singer Nana Mouskouri.

     Mama in the 70s

            Nana Mouskouri

And if all else fails, there’s always Velma from Scooby-Doo instead. I think I already have an orange turtleneck.

Sometimes, all you need is a new perspective.

©2017 Seetha Dodd