Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Losing My Specs Appeal

Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Losing My Specs Appeal

Article excerpt

Byline: THE CHRONICLE MONDAY, AUGUST 31, 2015 gary BAINBRIDGE One man's struggle with the 21st century Follow Gary on Twitter: @Gary_Bainbridge or email him at

IOWNED a pair of glasses with invisible frames which were great, except that I could never find them. That is not a late entry into the top 10 best jokes of the Edinburgh Fringe, it is the literal truth.

For the problem about needing to wear glasses is that when you need to find your glasses, you are not wearing the things you need to wear in order to find things.

That is part of the reason why some years ago I chose a pair of glasses with a thick frame. Part of the reason was that I wanted to be unapologetic about being a four-eyes, but mostly it was because it would give me a fighting chance of finding them if ever I put them down and then needed them again in a hurry.

Now I am not one of those people who buys GQ for the adverts, but if you wear the same item of clothing day after day for year after year it can become quite tedious - heaven knows how Donald Duck copes with it. This is also true for glasses.

And so when I had an eye-test a couple of years back, although my eyesight had not deteriorated I decided to buy a new pair, semirimless, but with a thick black horn-rim across the top. These were terribly stylish, like something you might see if you accidentally went back in time to the 1960s.

All was great until a couple of months ago, as a haircut became due, I looked in the mirror and saw a much-missed face staring back. The combination of retro glasses, bigger than average hair, and the ravages of ageing had contrived to turn me into my grandmother.

I loved my Nana dearly, but when I present myself to the world the vibe I am going for is definitely not "75-year-old woman". I shoved my glasses in a drawer, brought out my previous pair, had a haircut, and that was the end of that.

Last Friday I had a day off. I spent most of it in my flat typing on a computer, which suggests I need to revise my definition of a day off. But I realised at about 7.30pm that I had not been outside all day, and decided to go for "a recreational walk", as if I were some sort of crazy optimist. …

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