Life with nearly weightless sunglasses has been sweet. At first they felt delicate, easily brushed askew. I wasn’t convinced that I actually didn’t look like a bug in them. And being a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde name-brand cheerleader/antagonist, I was only 50% convinced that spending half a K on obscurely-branded titanium frames was a good decision. I could have had bejeweled David Yurman or leather-wrapped Gucci frames for the same price.
All that is behind me now, though. I’ve collected a number of compliments on the Zero Gs…fielded questions about them, and surprised friends with how light they are. I haven’t: told anyone how much they were. WHAT?! They were an investment! And only nouveauÂ talk about their investments in detail…
True to form, with anything I buy, I want more. Zero G makes prescription eyewear in addition to sunglasses…and some of their styles are Â brushed brown metal. Almost like wood. Wood = good.
My purchase has also spurred a renewed interest in the other end of the available spectrum: Ray-Bans, Carreras, the Nordstrom standard. Those won’t win me inventive points but they will earn nods from the branderatti. And that’s cool. I like variety in all aspects of life and product. Plus, the price of entry for commonplace is a lot less than it is for rare.
What I’ve learned is that I relish unknown and known alike, and am willing to pay for each. I am a perfect split of Jekyll and Hyde…one seeking the uncommon, the other seeking the recognizable. Giving yourself a break, being fluid with style, and stocking a range of ‘costumes’ makes life, and dressing, more fun. Like personalities and minds, styles are multilayered and complex, and that should be reflected by purchase decisions.