I dedicated yesterday to staying home to take care of a few things around the house, like the pile of laundry that growled at me on Monday and attempting to clean six months worth of goldfish and Cheerios out of the bottom of our couch cushions. And by goldfish I mean the delicious Pepperidge Farm cheese-flavored fish, not any sort of live fish. Because, please, I do have some standards of cleanliness.
But a girl can only do so many of these menial tasks before she needs to take a break, get out of the house and breathe in the refreshing 110 degree air outside. (You might be thinking SURELY SHE CAN TALK ABOUT SOMETHING BESIDES THE HEAT. To which I say NO I CAN’T. IT’S TOO HOT. AND QUIT CALLING ME SHIRLEY.)
So I gathered up a pile of clothes I’d been meaning to take in to my alterations lady since sometime in June, but I kept forgetting about it until I wanted to wear one of the items and then I’d remember and, ultimately, forget again five minutes later. This is how I operate. Plus the alterations lady is located in a fairly shady area of town and I always feel like I might be taking my life in my hands to get a pair of pants beautifully hemmed for $10.
But I felt like playing it fast and loose yesterday and I headed that way. Only to discover that she has relocated to a new place only five minutes from my house. I made my way to the new store and brought in my things for her to evaluate.
While she was looking things over, I mentioned that I really liked her new location. She said she was very happy and I told her I bet she felt a lot safer because the old place was kind of scary. And then she replied, “Yes, a customer asked me why I moved and I told her even Stevie Wonder could see why I needed to leave that old place.” I found it refreshing to discover we still live in a world where seamstresses don’t feel the need to be politically correct.
I still had about thirty minutes to kill before it was time to pick Caroline up from school and I didn’t want to go home, park the car in the driveway and let it get hot again. A person can only take so many third degree burns on the backs of her thighs in one twenty-four hour period. So I decided to run in Charming Charlie’s because I am in the market for some new inexpensive accessories and also desperately needed a new pair of sunglasses.
And this is where I am going to make a confession that has haunted me for years.
I am sunglass-choosing impaired.
It’s true. I don’t know how to select a good pair of sunglasses. This generally leads me to just pick the largest pair I can find with some sort of faux tortoiseshell frames. Which explains why several years ago Gulley’s son, Jackson, asked, “Mel? Can I try on your new goggles?”
That led me to attempt to rock some aviators like I used to wear in high school back when I still thought Top Gun was the best movie ever made and I took Tom Cruise seriously. But, as I reminded Gulley yesterday, my choice of aviators took a big hit when I went to lunch about four years ago with my outspoken former co-worker, Dee.
Dee and I were eating lunch and I had my jaunty aviators pushed back on top of my head. After lunch was over, she looked at me and asked, “Are those aviators? I’ve been thinking about getting a pair. Let me see how they look on you since we have a similar face shape.”
I put them on. Dee looked at me and shook her head violently no as she said, “OH NO! Those look TERRIBLE.”
Gulley told me it’s been at least four years since that incident and it might be time for me to let it go. She suggested that perhaps I’m holding on to some lingering sunglass insecurity and I need to reject it. Start fresh.
And she’s right. It’s time to move on from the sunglasses hurts of the past.
For the last year and a half I’ve worn a cheap pair with hideous faux crystals on the side that Caroline fell in love with when she saw them at Steinmart. I bought them out of desperation and never planned to wear them this long. It’s embarrassing really. But I haven’t bought new ones because I can’t ever find a pair that don’t end up making me feel like I might look like this.
“Hey! Would you eat the moon if it were made of ribs?”
In the end I did buy a new pair at Charming Charlie’s. I’m not really crazy about them, but they don’t have faux crystals on the side and that’s good enough for me for right now. I also consoled myself with the fact they were $9.97.
So basically all of this to simply ask if any of y’all have thoughts on sunglasses? Do you buy expensive glasses or, like me, do you top out in the $19.99 range? And that’s on a day I’m feeling reckless.
What style do you wear? Where do you buy your sunglasses?
Harry Caray and I would like to know.