I know, I know—the puff-of-air test. We all secretly hate it. But they have this newfangled machine that does it without the startling blast. Magic. The test was thorough, but the optician kept it light with jokes. “Do you see one circle or two? Actually, don’t answer that—we’re not doing a personality test.” See? Playful.
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They even checked the back of my eyes with a camera. I got to see a photo of my own retina, which looked suspiciously like a creepy nebula from a sci-fi film. Fascinating, yet slightly gross. But in a cool way.
Picking frames: the real struggle
This is where I almost lost my mind. So many options. Chunky, thin, colourful, subtle. Glasses that scream “I’m a creative genius” or whisper “I’m a minimalist who reads philosophy.” The staff didn’t push me into boring tortoiseshell. Instead, they handed me a pair of rose-gold wireframes and said, “You look like a movie professor. Own it.” Sold.
They even helped me find a pair that didn’t slide down my nose when I laughed—which is often, because they’re funny. And they didn’t judge me for trying on twelve pairs. That’s patience on a heroic level.
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