I last left this subject with the original rather striking (too striking) new frames rejected, a hurriedly-considered second choice rejected too, and the matter set aside while I went on holiday to South Wales and the New Forest in the closing part of October and the beginning of this month.
As soon as I was back, I had an appointment to make a third choice from Specsavers' range. I'd already paid them £216 for my original choice, fitted with expensive varifocal lenses, so they had my money and I couldn't really go elsewhere. Nor did I want to, as it seemed to me that Specsavers had the best range of the High Street opticians, with over five hundred women's frames to choose from. Surely they had something suitable?
Of course, not all their shops stocked every frame you might see on their website, and the Burgess Hill shop (my handiest) didn't. But you could get any shop to order a particular frame in, if you'd seen it elsewhere, or on their website. And their policy was, within reason, to let a customer change her mind more than once until she was satisfied.
Actually, my number two choice should have been what I now have. I'd spotted the frames in question (the product name was 'Raina') on the Specsavers website, and had hoped I could try them on at the shop. They didn't have them in stock. The very helpful girl who dealt with me on that occasion came up with two frames I hadn't noticed hitherto, and, wanting to nail this before going on holiday, I opted for one of them. A mistake: you can't rush these things. I should have asked her to order in those 'Raina' frames, and defer any decision until back from holiday.
Thankfully, while on holiday I managed to find 'Raina' frames on display in a big-city branch of Specsavers, and try them on. Perfect. So, once home again, I asked for them to be ordered with high confidence that this time I'd have no regrets. That was early last week. Two days ago I went to try them on. Yes: just right. Please go ahead and fit them with the new lenses, I said. And today I went along to see the result, and take them away if there were no issues.
There were no issues. They were fine. More than fine. They weren't merely satisfactory, I thought they looked as good as my gold-metal specs, and perhaps better. They were predominantly silver-metal, and therefore matched all my jewellery. But the part of the frames that held the lenses had a raspberry-pink tinge that made them blend somewhat with my skin. Not to make them invisible, but to make them unobtrusive. I had what I really wanted - frames that didn't dominate my face. You could see I was wearing glasses, but that wouldn't be the only thing you'd notice when looking at me. I wasn't hidden (or lost) behind a pair of over-assertive frames. I was out in the open.
And, it occurred to me, that hint of pink was a girly thing, and at my age I could do with some help in that department. As many readers will know, I was never pretty; and anything that tarts up the faded public image is most welcome. (I make no apologies whatever for saying pink is still generally perceived as a feminine colour. It is, and I will use the fact ruthlessly. As you would, if you were as plain and unattractive as I am)
So here's the gallery of selfies, taken today at home, to show off the new specs.
This is me looking stern, challenging and full of authority. I'd have wanted to look like this when I was an Investigation Manager for the Inland Revenue in the 1980s and 1990s:
This is me in a softer, gentler mood:
And this is me just being friendly, as you might catch me most of the time:
There you are, a variety of characteristic expressions and poses. And in all those shots, the new glasses seem to sit naturally and unobtrusively on the front of my face. At least, I think they do.
This was the original choice from mid-October:
Scary! But I dare say there are some who will still prefer my original choice. Sorry if you do. We'll just have to disagree.
Mind you, which pair of glasses might strike fear and consternation into the hearts of seasoned EU negotiators and secure - yes, even now - a decent deal for Britain? I'd say the answer to that is very obvious!
