“Julie! Julie! Wait for me!” I turned around, knowing that I was going to see Michelle Brown running towards me. We were into our final two days of lectures at university, then we’d have a week to revise before the start of our finals. Michelle Brown was one of those characters who is best described as “larger than life,” in every way you can imagine, except her height. Her curly brown hair was all over the place this morning – it didn’t look as if she had had the time to brush it properly. The other clue to this was that she was wearing her glasses. I knew she far preferred to wear contact lenses, but her glasses were very much in keeping with her personality – brightly coloured and oversized. The lenses were two or three times as thick as the frame, and made her eyes look tiny. She also had a big heart, and was always willing to help out. Most of the time, she was really good company, although there were times when I set off for lectures a few minutes earlier, if I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. With Michelle around, that was impossible. We had a couple of lectures that morning, with an hour between the two of them. I was planning on joining my course mates for a cup of coffee in that intervening hour, then hiding myself away in some obscure part of the library to get in several solid hours of revision for the rest of the day. For a geography student like me, that usually meant somewhere in the science or engineering sections, and preferably at a table where I could not see much else apart from bookshelves and my own work. Once or twice my hiding places had been discovered, but usually I was pretty safe. “I’ve got a meeting at lunchtime today to discuss the theme for the End of Exams Party,” Michelle announced. “Do you have any ideas on what we could have for this year’s theme?” I hadn’t really given it much thought. The party was only for those who had completed their Finals, although the occasional “plus one” sometimes managed to sneak in. The previous couple of years, the themes had been Europe and Children’s Television, so I knew it would be something different to those. It had been going for about ten years, from what I understood. The party always had a theme, and the local charity shops and fancy dress outlets did very well out of the occasion. It had started as students at the end of their degree didn’t have the money available for expensive suits and dresses, so rather than a Prom, they had changed to a Fancy Dress party. The other thing was that each School within the university took one part of the theme, and went with that. I guess I’d have found myself dressed up in Lederhosen if I’d been a year older, as the School of Geography had chosen Germany as its theme. “What about Colours?” I suggested. “Each school could wear clothes of a specific colour. That would be fairly easy to do.” “Whoever got Black probably wouldn’t have to spend any money at all, especially if they were at the Hallowe’en Party earlier in the year.” “Imagine being given Blue. Everyone would turn up looking like Smurfs!” “Or White. We’d all be snowmen.” “If we got Brown, you wouldn’t need to dress up at all!” “It’s not the worst idea, you know. I’ll see what the others think. Thanks for the idea.” We had nearly arrived at the lecture theatre by that point, so settled down for an hour about The Wider Effects of Erosion in sub-Saharan Africa, listening extra keenly in case the lecturer let slip anything about the contents of our forthcoming exams. After coffee and a further hour on Antarctica – To Develop or Not to Develop, I sequestered myself away in a secluded corner of the Library and lost myself in my revision. When I realised I was hungry, I looked at my watch to discover that it was just gone four o’clock, so I decided to call it a day, and headed off in search of something to eat. I did a bit more revision later that evening, although my heart wasn’t really in it. In fact, I spent rather longer playing mindless games on my iPad than doing anything constructive. I half expected someone to knock on my door and suggest heading off to the bar for a drink, but no-one did, so I had an early night. I had completely forgotten my conversation with Michelle until I saw her the next morning. She had obviously got up rather earlier, as it was clear that she had attempted to tame her hair, and there was no sign of her glasses. “How was your meeting yesterday? What theme did you choose?” “We’ve gone with Disney, and the School of Geography has got The Jungle Book as its theme. I wanted Cinderella, just to see Pete and Mike dressed up as the Ugly Sisters, but Biology got that one. You should have joined us in the bar last night. We spent some time working out who was going to be who. I chose Baloo, as he’s quite cuddly, like me.” “Did you reserve a character for me?” “No, but there are three we haven’t covered yet, before we start creating doubles, so if you fancy being Mowgli, Kaa or Shere Khan, speak now.” “I’m the wrong shape for Mowgli. I’d be the most well-endowed Mowgli ever – we’d better leave that one for the boys.” “I don’t know. We could decorate your body?” “No thanks. And I’m not tall and thin enough to be a snake, so that just leaves Shere Khan. That could work. I’ve got a Tigger Onesie which would do most of the costume…” “And then we could use face paint to turn you into Shere Khan rather than Tigger. That would work.” “Okay, Shere Khan it is, then. Have you got any face paint?” “No. Have you?” “No. But I’m sure I can get some next time I go into town. Even with the exams coming up, I still need to buy myself some food to eat, so I can have a look then. It will be good to have something different to think about, other than the effects of average rainfall on population density.” It was the very next day that I found myself wandering around the toy shops in town, trying to get myself a good deal on face paint. In the end, I bought a multicoloured box for £12. I probably wasn’t going to need much more than the orange, black and white, but I might be able to help some of my friends with the other colours. I also managed to find a wash-in, wash-out orange hair dye, as Shere Khan never had golden locks – at least, not in any of the versions of the Jungle Book I’d ever seen. It also occurred to me that there was one other thing I could do to make myself look more like an evil tiger rather than a cuddly children’s toy: tiger’s eye contact lenses. I couldn’t think what sort of shop might sell them, other than an optician’s, so I went into an independent one just off the High Street. “Yes, we can supply you with contact lenses, and show you how to put them in and take them out, and how to care for them. Have you had an appointment with us before?” I had to admit that I hadn’t, and that it had been three years or so since my last sight test, so I found myself booking one of those as well. I wasn’t aware that I had any problems, and at my previous sight test, the very small amount of short-sightedness in my left eye had been put down to the fact that people’s eyes are very seldom exactly the same. The first part of the sight test was just a series of questions. Any vision problems? No. Any double vision? No. Any regular medication? No. Frequent headaches? No. Do you smoke? No. Do you drink? I’m a student – what do you think? Do you drive? No – public transport is very good in South-East London. I managed to read the whole chart with both eyes, although I struggled a bit with the very bottom line with my left eye on its own. The verdict was that I was now slightly short-sighted in both eyes (a bit more in the left than the right), but as I could read the whole chart with both eyes together, and didn’t drive, there was no particular reason why I should get glasses. I’m not quite sure what I was expecting when it came to sorting out the contact lenses. With hindsight, what happened made perfect sense, but I ended up placing an order for tiger’s-eye lenses rather than walking out of the shop with them. As they explained to me, they couldn’t order them in in advance, as they didn’t know whether I just needed cosmetic lenses or whether I was going to need them to correct any visual defects. They took various measurements, and then put a contact lens into each eye and told me to go for a walk for twenty minutes or so. That was very strange, as the lenses they had used made me more short-sighted than I had just been told I already was, and I found myself peering at things that, ordinarily, I knew I’d have been able to see perfectly clearly. When I returned, I spent another twenty minutes or so sitting in the waiting room, as the clients after me had been twin girls. Their appointments had clearly not gone well, as their mother looked like she was on the verge of tears as she emerged from the testing room. As the girls made their way to the racks of frames on the wall, I realised that I couldn’t really see the signs clearly. Although I now knew that my eyesight was no longer perfect, I was glad that I was still able to read things clearly. The check to make sure that the lenses fitted took no more than about five minutes. I also got to read the chart on the wall again, just to double-check that my first prescription was accurate. It was. I started to panic as we were walking out of the consulting room that no-one had shown me how to remove the lenses, but it turned out that this was just so that I could do it myself – under supervision, and start to get used to taking something out of my eye. I then went to pay for the two appointments and to order the tiger’s-eye lenses properly. “While you’re here, Miss Hughes, can I interest you in our special offer on coloured contact lenses? They’re £5 for ten pairs if you order them today. They do a deep blue and a light blue if you want to enhance the colour of your eyes, or you could go for something completely different?” It was not something I had even considered, but at that price, I couldn’t go far wrong. I had always had blue eyes, and thought it might look a bit odd if they suddenly turned brown, but the thought of having deep blue eyes sounded interesting, so I made a snap decision to give it a go. I finished paying, and booked an appointment for the following weekend to learn how to insert and remove my new lenses. I just hoped they would complete my Shere Khan look when I got them. Combined with the face paint and the onesie, I reckoned I could probably do quite a good job. It took ages to learn how to put the lenses in. The assistant gave me a few tips, and then very kindly left me in peace, as she knew it was hard enough putting lenses in for the first time, without having someone standing over you and watching your every move. She then showed me how to remove, clean and store the lenses. She did ask whether I wanted to put them back in before I left, but I felt I might get some rather strange looks if I went to the supermarket with them in, so I declined. I was about to leave, when I remembered that I had also ordered the coloured contact lenses. She hadn’t remembered seeing them, but said she would go and check. She returned a couple of minutes later with a couple of boxes in her hand. “They came in yesterday, when it was my day off,” she explained. “There is just one thing,” she added. I couldn’t think what the problem could possibly be, so I asked: “What’s that?” “I forgot to ask whether you wanted prescription or non-prescription lenses.” “They don’t do them for my prescription,” I replied. “Not for the tiger’s-eye lenses they don’t, but for coloured lenses, they do. I took the liberty of ordering you the prescription version. I can order the non-prescription variety, if you’d prefer, but if you’re going to wear them to enhance your looks, I thought you might like it if they improved your vision as well?” I knew I needed to spend most of my day doing revision, so it seemed easier just to take the lenses with me to try them out later. I hadn’t made any specific plans to meet anyone that day, as my first exam was on Monday, so when I got back to my room from my shopping trip, I settled straight down to work. I was pleased with the progress I had made by lunchtime. I had to have a break and get something to eat, and I had also decided to go for a bit of a walk to get some fresh air and exercise. I hadn’t planned to wear my new coloured lenses that day, but curiosity got the better of me. It took me about ten minutes to put them in, but finally, I was able to take a look at myself in the mirror. My eyes with lenses in were certainly a deep blue, and even though I was only going for a walk, I put some eye-liner and mascara on just to see what the combination looked like. I was impressed. Outside, everything seemed very bright and clear. I was not particularly aware that I could see any better, but I felt that the few people I saw were looking at me extra-closely. I knew one or two of them by sight, but not to talk to. In fact, the lenses were so comfortable that I almost forgot I was wearing them, and left them in when I restarted my revision later in the afternoon. I took them out at about eight in the evening as I wanted to have a shower and relax before going to bed, and idly started to wonder when I might wear the other nine pairs. In fact, I think I fell asleep counting the occasions I was going to wear my coloured lenses. There was graduation day, two weddings over the Summer that I’d already been invited to, plus a third I thought I might be asked to attend, and then… The next ten days were one long round of revision and exams. The revision became easier to plan each time I did an exam, as there was one less thing to revise for. However, it also became increasingly tedious as I was going over the same things time and again. I felt an enormous sense of relief when I had done my final exam, but it was hard to celebrate properly, as most of my coursemates still had one left to do. Nevertheless, they were very good and came out for a drink with me and the handful of others who had already finished. It was rather a muted celebration, but it was better than nothing. The following morning, I treated myself to a lie-in. More truthfully, I had no particular reason to get up. Even when I did drag myself out of bed, I found myself at a loose end. I had a cup of coffee and a couple of slices of toast, but the leaden skies outside were no incentive to go anywhere. After picking up a book for all of five minutes, I briefly browsed Facebook, watched a couple of YouTube videos before my eye alighted on the bag of facepaints sitting in the corner. It seemed an ideal opportunity to try to make my face look like Shere Khan, with only the slightest chance that anyone would interrupt me. I knew that I was supposed to put the contact lenses in first so that I didn’t get any make-up on them, but hesitated before doing so. I didn’t need them to practise my make-up, but I did want to get better at putting them in. In the end, it wasn’t the tiger eye lenses I put in, but the blue ones. Curiosity had got the better of me, and I wanted to see how much bluer they made my eyes look. I also wanted to see whether I could tell any difference in my vision with the minimal prescription in them. I put the left lens in and had a close look at myself in the mirror. I was pleasantly impressed with how they appeared to change the colour of my eyes. With only one lens in, I realised that I could see better with my left eye than my right, even though it was usually the other way around. I put the right lens in as well, and decided to see what colours of my normal make-up looked best with my extra-blue eyes. Before I knew it, it was three o’clock in the afternoon, and I was feeling hungry. The next couple of days seem to be an endless round of socialising. Coffee, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner and the evening in the Students’ Union bar; I hardly seemed to have a moment to myself. Before I knew it, it was time to get ready for the party. I was feeling quite pleased with myself when it only took me ten minutes to put the tiger’s eye lenses in, as this gave me longer to work on the facepaint. I was quite impressed with the result. I’m not sure whether I would be instantly recognisable as Shere Khan, but with the others from my course dressed as different characters from the Jungle Book, it would be obvious who I was. The party itself was a brilliant success. We didn’t win any prizes for our outfits, but we had a great time. I got a lot of compliments on my make-up, and especially the fact that I had even gone as far as my eyes. The hassle of learning how to put contact lenses in suddenly seemed worthwhile. I still had eight pairs of blue lenses to wear, even if I couldn’t find the right occasion to re-use the tiger’s eye ones. I did wonder whether I could turn them into part of a Hallowe’en costume, but that was several months away. The following few days seem to consist of a lot more socialising. The weather had picked up, so we had a couple of picnics and made a point of visiting some of the local tourist attractions which we had never seemed to have time for in the last three years. Before we knew it, it was Graduation Day, and the parting of the ways. Although a few of us were hanging around for another couple of days, most of us were planning on going home with our parents, so it was time to say goodbye. As one final hoorah, we decided to get together for a full English breakfast in one of the local cafés near the university campus. Graduation wasn’t until three o’clock in the afternoon, so it would give us the chance to eat enough not to be hungry throughout the ceremony. At least, that was the theory. I found it difficult to sleep the night before, so I was up at six o’clock to pack the rest of my things. I had a shower, which left me with a dilemma of what to do with the wet towel. I decided to put my contact lenses in then and there, while I had the time, but still found myself killing time. Michelle had asked me to go to her room at nine o’clock to make sure that she was up, and then we were going to meet the rest of the group at the café at half past nine. Michelle was about to straighten her hair when I arrived. It was quite an undertaking for her, as her masses of curly locks were all over the place. She invited me to sit on her bed while she got the process started. “I’ll probably have to spend more time on my hair after we’ve had breakfast,” she explained, “but I’ve got to start somewhere. At least it’s clean now, so I haven’t got that to worry about.” I realised that I had nearly sat on Michelle’s glasses as I sat down, so I offered them to her. “Would it help if you had your glasses,” I offered. “I’ve got my contacts in. Hold on to them for a moment, and I’ll take them when I’ve finished this. It won’t take me long.” Holding on to Michelle’s glasses gave me a chance to have a proper look at them. The frames were a deep blue colour, although at certain angles there was a purplish tinge to them. The lenses also seemed to have a purple light reflecting off them. They had flat fronts, and seemed to be at least twice as thick as the frame. As Michelle was concentrating hard on what she was doing, I couldn’t resist the temptation and put them on. I had tried the occasional pair of glasses on when a school friend had got a new pair. Sometimes they seemed to make little difference. On other occasions, I had to force myself to focus. Michelle’s glasses were different. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t see anything with them. “They suit you, you know? A bit big, perhaps,” Michelle said, as she looked up at me. “But thank you for not using the B-word.” For a moment, I was slightly confused, as I hadn’t been about to swear. Then I realised what she meant. “Do they? I can’t see a thing through them.” “I can’t see anything without them. Take a selfie, and you’ll see what I mean.” I took several pictures, from different angles, including a couple where I tried to look a bit provocative by looking over the lenses. As Michelle had finished what she was doing, I gave the glasses back to her. I swiped through the photos on my phone to see what I looked like. The combination of the deep blue contacts and the dark blue frames looked good on me, although the frames were a little on the large side. “So how come your glasses are so strong?” “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you on the way to the café. Let’s go!” Michelle made sure she had locked the room behind her, before resuming what she was saying. “The honest answer is, I don’t know. It just seems like every time I’ve had my eyes tested, I’ve needed stronger glasses. Both of my parents are a little short-sighted, but nowhere near as much as me. I hadn’t been having any problems with my eyes, but when I turned ten, my mum took me and my sister to the optician’s. My eyes were fine, but Rachael, my younger sister, was told she was moderately long-sighted, and had to wear glasses all the time. She wasn’t best pleased at that, and even less so when she was told she needed even stronger glasses at her next check-up. It was strange being the only one in the family with good eyesight. “All that changed when I had just turned twelve. I didn’t feel that I could see things quite as clearly, although I still hoped that I could see well enough not to need glasses. No such luck. I was told that I needed to wear glasses for seeing the board and for watching television. They weren’t especially strong, and I could still see well enough without them. Rachael still grumbled that she couldn’t wear her glasses only some of the time, like me, and started to wear hers less and less. My parents weren’t best pleased. When I was fourteen, I got my third pair of glasses. They didn’t seem much stronger, but I was told that I should probably wear them all of the time. My sister wanted to get contact lenses, but my parents said that she would have to wait another year, until she turned 13, and that she would have to earn them by wearing her glasses. As I was also wearing my glasses full time, I also asked about getting contacts – and got the same answer. “I’ve always had daily lenses. My first pair was -3.75 in both eyes, and Rachael’s were +2.75. We had to go back to have our eyes checked a couple of weeks after we got them, and then again six months later. Her eyes hadn’t changed at all, but I was told that my eyes had, and that my next batch of contacts was going to be -4.25, and that I should also book an ordinary sight test, as I was sure to need stronger glasses as well. I did. I was horrified when I was told my glasses needed to be -4.50, as I thought that meant my eyes had got worse in just one week. I was relieved to hear that contact lenses and glasses weren’t supposed to be the same strength after about minus 4. Since then, it’s been the next step up in lenses every six months, and usually new glasses as well. My latest lenses were supposed to be -10.75, but they don’t make them, so I’ve only got -10.50. I need new glasses, too. The ones you’ve just tried on aren’t strong enough anymore.” That was a sobering thought in itself. Strong glasses belonged on older people, not on friends, and to hear Michelle saying that they were nowhere near strong enough was almost worrying. Perhaps that’s why she didn’t want me to use the B-word. “Anyway, I’m not sure quite why I’ve just told you my whole glasses history. Your eyesight is perfect.” At this point, I told Michelle the truth, about the tiger’s eye lenses (which she knew), the sight test and the coloured contact lenses. “I thought there was something different about you,” she said, “but I couldn’t quite place it. I thought it might have had something to do with your eye liner. I didn’t realise you had coloured contacts in.” The whole day seemed to be over before it had started. Before I knew it, I was in my parents’ car, and heading home. I had graduated! Breakfast had been a great laugh, and a chance to unwind and forget about the serious occasion which was to follow. I had arranged to meet my parents half an hour before the ceremony began, so with the late finish to breakfast, I had to hurry to get ready. Fortunately, I only had a few items to pack by that stage. After the ceremony, I emptied my room for the last time and handed the keys back. I then went out for a celebratory dinner with my parents before they took me home for the final time. I took a few days at home before I started to consider the options in answer to the question “what next?” I had a degree in geography, but didn’t really know where I was heading. One option was teaching, but I wanted more adventure than spending the next thirty-five or forty years in a classroom. There were a number of jobs for wardens of open-air properties which came up, but as I had neither experience, nor driving licence, all my attempts to earn one of these posts were unsuccessful. At least, I had to assume they were, as I never heard a word from any of them. It was time to take the initiative. At the start of July, I applied for my provisional licence, and got my parents to drop me off at a local canal clearance project, in order to get some experience. I also joined a few beach clearance ventures in order to show that I was serious about getting involved in environmental work. By the time August came around, I was volunteering four days a week at various projects, and I was just about to start driving lessons. I had also arranged to meet Michelle up in London, supposedly for a shopping trip. However, as both of us had just graduated, neither of us had much money to spare, so it was more like a meet-up with lunch in a small café and a bit of a wander around some shops. We would have met under the clock at King’s Cross station at noon, as one does, but her train was five minutes late. I saw her coming through the crowds a minute or so before she reached me. She had had a haircut, so her usually unruly mop of dark curls was shorter than it had been for a long time. It might even have been tamed to the point of simply being called ruly, but that might have been stretching it a bit. As she drew closer, I also saw that she had swapped her dark blue glasses for a deep burgundy-coloured pair. It might have been my imagination, but the lenses looked even thicker than before. I made a mental note to ask her about them later in the day. As it happened, I didn’t need to bother, as it was Michelle herself who raised the issue. We had filled each other in on what we had been up to for the last month or so. I had told her about my quest for the all-important experience towards becoming a National Trust warden or park ranger, while she told me about her so-far unsuccessful attempt to become a cartographer. We had wandered across the road from the station and sat down to some refreshments, when Michelle turned to me and said: “So what do you think of my new look?” I started to say how much I liked her new hairdo, but she interrupted me. “I meant the glasses, actually. What do you think of them?” “I like them. I think they suit you even better than the blue pair. Have you had them long?” “They came through the post this morning. I’d normally have worn my contacts, but I’d been tracking them ever since I ordered them three weeks ago. I knew they were coming today. It was just a matter of whether the postman came before or after I left the house this morning.” “There was nothing to stop you from wearing your contacts today.” “No, but I wanted to start to get used to my new glasses. I had quite a big prescription change, so they’re going to take some getting used to, especially as I’m now not only very short-sighted, but have astigmatism as well.” “I went from -11 in both eyes to -12 with -0.50 of astigmatism in my left eye, and -12.25 with -0.25 of astigmatism in my right eye. Right now, everything is looking much smaller and clearer than it was, and things seem to have a bit of a bend in them. It’s all rather weird. I’m not sure I’m not starting to get a headache from them, so I’m glad I put the old pair in my bag. And they seem so much thicker than my old pair.” There was only one way to find out, so she took her new pair off, and got the old ones out of her bag. It was true, the new ones were thicker. It was only a millimetre or so, but it was easy enough to tell. I couldn’t resist trying on the burgundy pair. “What do you think? Do they suit me?” “I can’t tell. I can’t see anything at all!” There was a brief pause while Michelle put the blue glasses back on. “They really suit you, Julie!” She got out her phone to take a picture of me, and then decided we needed one with both of us wearing her glasses. She then made us swap glasses and repeated the process. I couldn’t resist taking a couple of shots as well, although it was hard to see what I was doing. The pictures came out surprisingly well, although I was glad when I was able to hand both pairs of glasses back to Michelle. “Why did you order them online,” I asked. “Wouldn’t it have been quicker to get them where you had your eyes tested?” “Probably quicker, but I paid £60 for these. They would have cost me four or five hundred if I’d got them at the optician’s. They would have tried to sell me the most expensive lenses going. And I’ve got to go back in six months, and am likely to need stronger glasses again.” “So soon?” “Yes. If not sooner. I can manage £120 a year for glasses, but not £1000. Once my eyes stop changing, then I’ll go for the thinner lenses, but at the moment I’m just getting something to allow me to see. Actually, even these are supposed to be twenty per cent thinner, so I hate to think what full thickness would look like.” “About twenty per cent thicker, I suspect!” “Very clever, but you’re probably right.” We spent the rest of the day wandering around browsing the shops, although buying very little. Everywhere I went, I found myself seeing signs advertising cheap glasses - £19 in one well-known shop, and even as low as £6 online. The more I thought about it, the more tempted I became. I had just spent £10 on some new mascara, so a few pounds more on another fashion accessory didn’t seem like a bad idea. I wouldn’t have to wear them all the time, but only when I felt like it. And, they would have the added bonus of helping me to see a little more clearly. At least, that was the theory. I was pleasantly surprised by the range of frames available for £6. True, I was going to have to pay almost the same amount again for postage and packaging, but that didn’t seem to change if I ordered several pairs – so I did. In fact, it was quite a struggle to decide which pairs I liked best, but at least I didn’t have anyone looking over my shoulder as I did so, which meant that I was able to take my time. I also reasoned that at that price I could afford to buy more pairs later on, if I wanted. It was Ruth, my sister who answered the door when my package arrived. She brought it straight to my bedroom, and wanted to know all about why I had been ordering glasses. I gave her an abridged version of the story. In truth, I probably embellished my supposed need for corrective eyewear, but I needed to leave myself room not to wear them if I didn’t like them, or to wear them more often if I did. Even as I tried the first pair on, and looked at myself in the mirror, I could see that she was itching to try them herself. It was almost as if we had been transported back about ten years in time, with me having the first go, and her waiting impatiently for her turn. I also spent some time trying to tell whether they improved my eyesight or not. I reached the conclusion that they did help my left eye a bit, although I wasn’t so sure about my right eye. When she finally got around to trying them on, Ruth announced that they were so weak that they hardly made any difference. I reminded her that, if they helped me to pass my driving test, they were worth every penny. However, having scorned the first pair, she was still eager to see what she looked like in the other two pairs. I was actually very pleased with all three of my purchases. I wasn’t quite sure whether to wear them on my head as a fashion accessory or in front of my eyes. I tried both while looking at myself in the bathroom mirror, but that just looked weird. In the end, I decided that, if I was going to have them with me, I might as well wear them properly. I’m also fairly sure that whenever I went out, Ruth would pop into my room and borrow one of the two pairs that I wasn’t wearing. I had been wearing one or other of my pairs of glasses every waking moment since I got them, so Ruth didn’t seem remotely surprised when another package of three more pairs of glasses arrived for me about six weeks later. She was as keen to see what they looked like on her as they did on me. I was pleased, as I now had a black pair and a brown pair, and four more colours to go with most of my outfits. I half wished that it looked as if I actually needed glasses for real, like Michelle, but having such a range of frames I could wear whenever I wanted also had its benefits. I had become a full-time glasses wearer, and yet there was one thing bugging me. There are seven days in a week, and I only had six pairs of glasses. At least, that was easily remedied. As Ruth said to me, when they arrived: “Julie, you look fantastic in glasses. You really have an eye for fashion.”