I’ve been wearing glasses for about twenty years now, since my mid-teens. This is probably the worst time in a person’s entire life-span to become a speccy four eyes, just when every single cell of your body is causing you dread and angst! At least the glasses gave me something tangible to focus (!) my immense hatred on!

I could quite cheerfully have punched the optician when he cheerfully announced that my borderline prescription had tipped over into full blown short sightedness, and I needed glasses. The sulks over the next few weeks were immense! I hid them at the bottom of my rucksack and only dragged them out if my life depended on it. Quite often it really did, as I narrowly missed getting hit by cyclists and small children and wandered into roads thinking I was still on the pavement.

In my twenties I got contact lenses, and the world was changed into 3D and a landscape with birds flying, buildings with bricks etc. The real shock has been the last couple of years, when I’ve gradually drifted back into wearing specs. This new love affair started when I saw a Marc Jacobs frame and was instantly smitten. It was shiny black with sexy curvy sides, and with my chunky fringe and power bob I was transformed into an intellectual and serious force to be reckoned with. I’ve now become addicted to spex, with ten pairs in an array of colours doing all the work for me when it comes to accessorising.

I wish I’d done it years ago, as lenses were never perfectly comfortable on me and I was always smudging my makeup and fiddling with my eyes. So I’ve made peace with my myopia and at least I have an excuse to splurge on Designer fashion!