Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Guest post: "Do these glasses make me look cool?"

Continuing with our belated back-to-school theme for this week I have a wonderful post from Lauren Horsley (@supermomcentral), aka Supermom Central. If anyone is a supermom (or super mom, which works too) it's Lauren. She never ceases to make me smile all the while amazing me with how cool a mom she really is. Here's her walk down the often awkward elementary-school memory lane. Enjoy!

"Do these glasses make me look cool?" My answer? Absolutely not!

I am a child of the 80's, and proud of it. I openly admit to high side-ponytails, even higher bangs, and a fingerless glove I fashioned out of an old lacy stocking. I rolled my pant legs. I had a matching neon colored scrunchy for every outfit. One time, for 3 weeks straight, I wore a stud earring in one ear and a hoop in the other.

But nothing, not even the stone-washed
jean jacket and smiley faced mood ring, could put me to shame like my most dreaded accessory – my eye-glasses. I began wearing them in 2nd grade and knew immediately that no $60 pair of Girbauds was going to make up for the daily fashion faux-pas. I tried everything to rid myself of them. I “lost” them on purpose, then quickly “found” them when my mother threatened to dock my allowance for eternity to pay for new ones. I pretended to no longer need them, but one night of blurry TV talked me out of that. I hid them as often as possible and hoped no one would notice they're absence. But they did. And I did. I was blind as a bat without them.

My resentment of my glasses is painfully evident in this 3rd grade photo – can you see the indentations on the bridge of my nose? I yanked off the glasses just seconds before the picture was snapped but couldn't hide the evidence. Other times, I wasn't quick enough...

How I wish I could go back and chat with my sweet seven-year-old self. I'd tell her not to worry so much about the outside appearance – that healthy inner-vision is much more important. I'd tell her to focus on developing the art of being though
tful, curious, kind and interesting. Because, in the long run, those character features would serve her much better than perfect facial features. And I'd tell her that boys who dig chicks in glasses are fewer and father between than boys who like permed hair, but WAY more gnarly.

I'd also tell her that in 6th grade she was going to get contacts, so just take a chill pill until then. That's right – chill pill. She'd know what I meant.

However, I wouldn't tell her that as the glasses disappeared, the pimple plague would hit, along with a long series of bad haircuts. Some things are best left as a surprise. ~Lauren

1 comment:

mother in israel said...

I remember getting glasses in third grade. I wasn't shy about wearing them, but when I left them home and my mother had to bring them, I was mortified that the only other child in the class, who also wore them, would notice and make fun of me for forgetting them.