This post is part of a weekly series of ‘link-up’ Posts which reflect on life’s journey, old memories and family stories (see below for more info).
After my semi-negligent parents failed to notice that I spent the first 8 years of my life sitting a cosy 3 feet away from the TV set, the Optician arrived at school. This innocuous event turned out to be the worst day of my life. An event from which I have never recovered, for it resulted in the discovery that I couldn’t see a bloody thing. This, in turn resulted in a trip to the High Street Optician, which resulted in the provision of a pair of pig-ugly NHS spectacles and a lot of tears.
No photographs remain of my butt-ugly days in those pink monstrosities (I may have played a hand in their mutilation, or more likely didn’t wear them enough to actually be caught on celluloid in them). I imagine that I looked something like this…..
I can clearly remember the day we chose these pink beasties. Led by my parents, who with retrospect obviously thought that FREE was more important than a lifetime of self-esteem for their beloved 8 year old daughter, I was presented with a display board which held 3 options:-
1. ugly glasses in tortoiseshell brown (for boys)
2. ugly glasses in baby pink (for girls)
3. ugly glasses in baby blue (for boys and girls, and my classmate Jill who I’m still not entirely sure about)
If the expression “What the Actual F?!” had existed in 1975 then I surely would have used it. I waited for the trendy stuff to come out, but was met with a stoney silence. This, it seems, was to be the first day of the rest of my disappointing life. Pink it was.
It is hard to appreciate the splendour of an in-focus office block when you are viewing it through tear-stained pink beer bottles. I remember declaring my surprise that the windows in our house actually had square corners, and my Mother emitted a muffled “Sh**, I didn’t realise she was THAT bad.” Or I may have imagined that last bit, since it’s probably more a commentary on my own mothering norms than hers…
At 18, I fair sprinted to the queue for contact lenses, and these have been my friends ever since. I almost wish I still had those godawful frames so that I could pop them on for you and Instagram myself up. But it would only serve to remind me just how much worse my sight has got since then, so best left alone, methinks!
Anyone out there got memories of the school optician, or a first eye test? Maybe you were the proud owner of a pair of blueys? Do share in the Linky!!!
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Other posts in this series:-
Week 1 – My earliest baby photo
Week 2 – Old School Portrait
Week 3 – Earliest Writings
Week 4 – Bestest Friends
Week 5 – Teenage Crushes
Week 6 – First Movie Memories
Week 7 – The Song You Snogged Your Hand To
Week 8 – Homage to Grandparents
Week 10 – Tying the Knot (again)
Week 11 – Blue: Girl Guide Uniform Shambles
Week 12 – Cuddly Companions
Week 13 – A Rope, Some Pals and Jelly on a Plate