Jeepers, peepers

I know this is going to be hard to believe, but it takes a team of makeup artists and hairstylists for The Modern Gal to achieve the look you see in the top left corner of this blog. Every other day of the week, The MG is fairly normal looking.

The only especially distinguishing feature God gave me was my shortness, and really I'm not that short. I have brown hair. I have medium-toned skin. I'll never win any beauty contests. No one is going to covet my hair or my nose or any other feature of mine. Well, maybe my butt ... which once upon a time was dubbed a "ghetto booty."

I think the fact that I find nothing interesting about my appearance is why I've become so attached to wearing glasses.

It wasn't an immediate friendship. When one of my middle school teachers -- I think it was seventh or eighth grade -- caught me squinting from the back row to see the chalkboard, she called my parents who then shuffled me off to the optometrist. I hated everything about the process from having a light shined in my eyes down to the big round gold-rimmed glasses I ended up with as a result. I only broke those out when my life depended upon me seeing the chalkboard in class. The rest of the time they stayed in my backpack.

My parents let me try out contacts as a freshman. I was hooked as soon as I could successfully get them in my eyes: I could see and I didn't have to wear my ugly glasses! A string of eye infections my sophomore year and my crazy optometrist telling me he wanted to try a procedure that would plug my tear ducts so that my eyes could handle the daily wear of contacts ended that little experiment. I went back to my wear-glasses-only-when-absolutely-necessary routine.

That was until I discovered the tortoise-shell frames eight years ago. Sure, they're ubiquitous now, but they were something of a novelty then. And it was love at first sight. The shade of the frames complemented my hair and skin and my tendency to dress in earth tones perfectly. The rectangular shape of the frames were just distingushing enough. They said 'kinda nerdy/kinda hip,' which I like to at least pretend I was. They became a part of who I was, so much so that I know I have friends who wouldn't recognize me without them.

Three pairs of tortoise-shell frames later, it seems like everyone and their mother has a pair, which means it's time for me to find a new style. The problem is, choosing new frames stresses me out to no end. Selecting a new car? No sweat. A house? Piece of cake. Glasses? It's like one step away from getting plastic surgery for me.

I stopped by LensCrafters after work today to get an idea of the current selections. I wasn't overly impressed, but am mulling a few distinctly different frames before dragging the Modern Beau back to help me make a decision. Perhaps a two-toned pair with blue trim? A shade of my favorite color? Red? Something with a bit of embellishment?

Seriously, I need help.