Sunglasses: A Fatal Attraction

Confession: I’m terrible at accessorizing. I don’t own any rings, wearing necklaces make me feel like I’m choking, and I have had stretches of going without wearing earrings so long that I’ve had to re-pierce my ears three times. I just can’t get it together.

However, there is one accessory that I can’t live without: sunglasses. Like any true California girl, I practically popped out of the oven wearing shades. Rain or shine, daytime or night, my sunglasses are an integral part of any and every outfit. Wearing shades give me a sense of having super powers, like a cloak of invisibility, helping antisocial misfits like me avoid unsolicited eye contact and social interaction. And it works like a charm because everybody else is wearing sunglasses too. (It’s in the bylaws of being a citizen of The People’s Republic of California, right above driving a Prius and just below buying stock in In-N-Out Burger.) Sunglasses help me feel like all is right in the world. Like a hug for my face.

Originally designed to improve vision, the first modern sunglasses weren’t intended to protect the eyes from UV rays. However, Foster Grant saw an untapped market and was one of the first to provide sunglasses to the masses. OnceEdwin H Land discovered a way to polarize their lenses, sunglasses became an important part of the WWII War Effort, as pilots were given sunglasses to reduce glare while flying . . . Enter the Aviators. It was all over from there. Stylish, rebellious, devil-may-care, it made perfect sense that Hollywood would quickly pounce on the trend, giving sunglasses the glamour and sophistication we now associate with them.

I personally take a page out of theJackie Onassis,Audrey Hepburn, and Paris Hilton schools of style and think The Bigger, The Better. If my sunglasses don’t cover at least half my face and make me look like an insect of some sort, then they’re not for me. I adore designer sunglasses; they’re probably the only designer anything that I truly covet. I wish I could be wearing these Shwood Zebrawood sunglasses right now.

Why don’t I own any of these darling shades? It’s simple and it’s sad: I treat sunglasses poorly. I sit on them. I step on them. I have even flushed a pair down the toilet. (True story: it happened at Disneyland. Drat those automatic flushers!) It’s quite the abusive relationship.

I am terrified to spend more than $20 on a pair as it is only a matter of time before I accidentally send them to the great Sunglass Hut in the sky. I tend to stick to the $16 shades from Target. Though perfectly serviceable and attractive (until they crack in my purse under the weight of my Nook), perhaps the reason why my sunglasses have a brief shelf life is because I subconsciously believe they are disposable? Why treat them well if they’re going to break within a few short months? Maybe they break because I’m always shoving them to the farthest reaches of my purse, or dropping them on sidewalks, or leaving them in the cup holder in my car to let the heat distort the inexpensive plastic? The vicious cycle of self-perpetuated sunglass sabotage is unending!

Until I learn how to treat my toys nicely, I cannot justify the expenditure for couture sunglasses. I love them, I adore them; I just don’t deserve them (yet!). Perhaps if I learn to treat my inexpensive sunglasses well and prove to myself that I can go a year without destroying them, then maybe, just maybe, I’ll be brave enough to wear these Dior beauties someday.

Until then, I’ll stick with my Target sunglasses and pray I don’t break them.

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