Going into town to collect my new specs is a Journey of Discovery.
What's that all about? I hear you ask. Surely I didn't pay out all those pennies without knowing exactly what I was buying? The truth, sadly, is - well, sort of...
The thing is that I am so very, very short-sighted that when trying out samples from the magnificent displays before me in Specsavers (other opticians are, of course, available) I can't actually see what the specs really look like, perched on my nose, until
I come to collect them. That's when the new lenses will have been fitted, allowing me to discover, for the first time, whether I have made A Good Choice.
This time around I was seduced by a silvery frame. Partly this was the subtle influence of
a magazine which I perused in the waiting area while awaiting my eye test. In one article, an elegant woman of about my age was extolling the qualities of silver to enhance one's skin tone, disguising wrinkles (aka laughter lines) with its soft sheen. There
and then I decided I should have Some Of That.
This is not to admit that my skin is in need of enhancement. I mean, it may well be but in our home there is a Distinct Dearth of mirrors, a fact often despaired of by visiting daughters and granddaughters.
I didn't actually realise that my face was becoming wrinkled until one day, some years ago now, when Katie my eldest granddaughter (then aged about seven) stroked my face lovingly and asked: "Why do you have stripes on your face?"
So, dear reader,
I went for silver. It wasn't until I was seated in the area allocated for Specs Collection that I allowed myself a moment of doubt. I had pushed it to the back of my mind by the time the member of staff returned bearing aloft my new specs. "They're just PERFECT
for Christmas!" she exclaimed. I am seriously concerned that I have opted for the spectacles version of a silver, sparkly bauble...
Okay, they are not that bad. Not really...
After all, I remember by myself, it took me months to accept
my last pair of specs which were a little larger, a little more boring than I had thought they would be. The process of acceptance was reminiscent of that Almost Love Song from the musical My Fair Lady which starts: "I've grown accustomed to her face..." I
love that song. It's the principle that love grows, that simply becoming accustomed to someone isn't something to be decried but something to be celebrated.
My lovely friend Delia has, like me, just collected her new specs. They frame her face
perfectly. She clearly didn't allow herself to be Seduced By Silver
What of me?
Well, two days in and I've grown accustomed to my face...