Sunglasses, Philosophy, and Angst

It's Friday night, late, and I'm tired but not sleepy; EXACTLY the kind of time people shouldn't be committing ANYTHING to print in a public way, but this seems pretty harmless, and maybe sort of relatable.

I lost my sunglasses about a week ago.  With the sun glaring on the snow around here, I've really, REALLY missed them.  Now, surely, you must think, I must have ANOTHER pair of sunglasses lying around that I could use, right?  Right.  But I don't like them as much as the pair I lost.  I had them for three years.  That's a good long time to have a pair of glasses and not lose them, isn't it? I paid over $100 for the damned things, too, as I've come to appreciate good lenses.  And part of why I liked them is that they didn't shout "This face paid over a $100 for me."  They were just good, attractive glasses with no distinguishing marks.  They fit my face and they kept hair back and they didn't pinch my temples (I have wide set eyes, and thus, I guess, and broad brow, so glasses are often too narrow for me) so they were all purpose utility glasses.

Now I am faced with rack after rack of sunglasses which are ALL hideously ugly or worse, completely useless.  In the intervening years since my last sunglass purchase, fashion has made them either big and round, or square and pale with gradient lenses.  I am doomed to look either like a bug or a pretentious fashionista in a Subaru.  This can't stand.  Saks or Marshall's, they ALL s*ck.  All of them.  So I am now faced with the choice of spending $10 on something hideous and functional, or $300 on line for something I really like.  Neither option appeals to me.  I could wear an old pair, but there's a reason they became an old pair (lenses, size, etc...).

Whine.