If Seeing is Believing, Then I'll Stay a Skeptic

 Purple Sherbet Shenanigans Necklace

Sweater: Poof, Marshalls

Tank: Hollister, Marshalls

Skirt: Decree, JCPenney

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Xhilaration, Target

 Rainbow Ruckus Necklace

Blouse: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Tank: Hollister, Marshalls

Skirt: Material Girl, Macy's

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Betseyville, Marshalls

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: JCPenney

 Candy Collage Barrettes

Top: Lily Star, Target

Skirt: L'Amour by Nanette Lepore for JCPenney

Shoes: Candie's, Kohl's

Bag: Nahui Ollin

Belt: Wet Seal

Pink Sherbet Shenanigans Necklace

Top: Delia's

Jeans: City Streets, JCPenney

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Belt: Tournier Everything's $10 

I've always loved rainbow sherbet.  As a kid, I used to eat it out of cylindrical brown Pyrex bowls that made the stripes of green, pink, and orange even more magically neon.  Looking at this week's dessert-themed accessories, I wish I would've made and photographed a rainbow sherbet sundae.  In an old-fashioned ice cream parlor glass, though, not a circa 1975 piece of Pyrex.  Partly because I've been itching to bust out said glasses since my going-on-two-years-ago bridal shower.  Partly because it would've been pretty.  But mostly because it would've been a great excuse to eat ice cream in January.  But then, hindsight's 20/20.  Unlike my vision.  

Yep, it's an out-there segue, even for me.  But I promise it's a relevant one.  See, I recently discovered that I'm becoming more dependent on my glasses.  I wear them mostly just for driving but found that I need them more and more, a realization that dawned after I hatched an "experiment" to wear them all day. (I didn't say it was a sophisticated experiment.)  Sharper eyesight, however, led to another unpleasant revelation, namely that I had a gray hair or two.  "I've been living in a fool's paradise!" I thought, channeling that old lady from the Swifter commercial.  Sure, these flaws are minor and could be easily remedied by hair dye and contacts (although "easily" is a relative term considering my aversion to salons and sticking things in my eyes).  But then, it isn't what's happening that's giving me pause.  It's what what's happening represents, namely, that I'm getting, if not old, exactly, then older.

Paradoxically, wearing glasses full time makes me feel like I'm going backwards.  In TV and movies, spectacles always spell disaster.  They eradicate the "it" factor from cool girls and prevent diamonds in the rough from achieving their sparkle.  Except, of course, in that coterie of hip-to-be-square goddesses who sometimes wear glasses and sometimes don't.  Like Zooey Deschanel's Jess on "New Girl," or Tina Fey's Kate in Baby Mama. (I'd go with Liz in "30 Rock," but I think she almost always wore glasses in that, which wouldn't do much to help my case.  Besides, it was re-watching Baby Mama on FX recently that first set me off on this tangent, and I like to give credit where credit is due.)  Are we to assume that these characters are wearing contacts when they're not wearing glasses?  Or that they're just not seeing as well?  I sure hope it's the latter, because that's what I've been doing for the last 16-odd years, and I'd love for some reputable source to sanction it.  After all, Hollywood's haphazard, devil-may-care attitude toward glasses has probably, at least in some small way, contributed to my reluctance to be a 24/7 four eyes.  Their attitude toward eyewear is sort of "Now I want to look smart! Wait, now I want to look pretty!", which is kind of confusing.   Because despite my (and let's be honest, most women's) ever-ardent desire to look pretty, if there's anything I learned while dodging my optometrist's near-heroic attempts to fit me for contacts, then it's that my squeamishness outweighs my vanity (no surprise there, really, as I've avoided plucking my eyebrows and bleaching my teeth for similar reasons). Which makes me wonder.  Is wearing glasses a sign of weakness, a kind of white flag that you've given up on your looks?  Or is it a mark of maturity that you've transcended such shallow concerns?  

I think the title of this post tips my hand on that one.  Which is to say that I'll have my cake (sherbet?) and eat it too (a dubious saying if ever there was one because what would you do with cake if you didn't eat it?) by being a mere part-time Poindexter.  At least until I hit forty and succumb to bifocals.