When I was in kindergarten, I developed a wild scheme to obtain a pair of glasses. I lied to my parents and told them I couldn’t see the classroom blackboard too well, and as any responsible adults would do, they took an appointment with an optometrist. I was excited at the prospect of coming home with a shiny new pair of glasses. The doctor began examining my eyes, and I jumped out of my seat the moment a gust of air hit my eyeballs. Turns out I don’t like things touching my eyes. I admitted my eyesight was perfect and that I made the whole thing up because I wanted to wear a pair of glasses to school. I got some candy (and possibly a referral to a psychologist) but came back home empty-handed.
Call it the power of wishful thinking if you may, but a few weeks later I genuinely could not see the board well. I was squinting, confused about what was happening and was sent back to the clinic. I was still not a fan of things touching my eyes, though I came back with a shiny new pair of glasses. Most children would dread the curse of having bad eyesight, and but I knew that I was destined for a life of being called “four eyes” or a “nerd.”
My life with glasses evolved gradually; I tried contact lenses, considered laser, but always came back to being four eyes. I know fantasising about terrible Bollywood movies had a little part to play in this too — where the protagonist would gently take the glasses off the female leads’ face, and a gust of wind would softly billow through her hair. He’d call her beautiful (with or without the glasses) look into her big, mildly surprised eyes and confess his undying love. Yeah, this did not happen to me. What did happen to me was a bunch of kids who had this annoying way of asking to try on my glasses.
And holding up fingers in front of my face to see if I can see them. And as soon as one person tried them on, a whole new group of people needed to see how blind you were. I faced a whole new gamut of issues as I grew older and started wearing a little make-up. It started with my lenses getting marked up with mascara or foundation smudges from the bridge of my nose. The answer, you ask? Eyeshadow primer! I’m serious, give your face primers a break — they are not going to hold up with your glasses resting heavily on your nose.
You could also use powder or setting spray — just make sure to spray before quickly putting your glasses back on before the spray fully dries up. It creates a matte, slightly sticky base which gives you extra grip — only if you don’t take your glasses off for a few minutes after the step. Always use an eyelash curler to keep your lashes from hitting the glasses, and use mini travel-sized brushes so you can be closer to the mirror during application (in case you’re short-sighted). So there you have it. Over two decades of wearing glasses and this is all I can give to you, apart from wear those glasses loud and proud!