A very average pair of plastic Wayfarer clones– strawberry red with tinted lenses bought from one of the few chains here in China where the pants fit: H&M.
These haven’t actually died. They were purchased along with a red felt bowler and a red t-shirt for a night on the town a bit over a year ago, but they are going to be retired for the new year. They will end up in a box in the burgeoning number of props at my new school where I am developing the IB Theatre program to launch next year in the hopes of resurrection for some scenework or in a play. No guarantees, Reds.
I’ve been wanting to do this for awhile now, so here goes.
About a year ago, when purchasing some Fay(ke)-Bans from a counter in Phomn Penh’s Central Market, I reminisced about all my sunglasses of old… how many pairs I have owned, worn, lost, broken… how many stolen by mates, sat on, left on airplanes, fallen from head-perch… and I decided I should really start documenting their lives, no matter how long or short.
I bought these at Apex Outfitters before leaving for Guangzhou (the “Miami of China”) because they were brown and only $15. A bit of a step up from $5-$9 gas station shades, these did the job of “leisure lenses” for a time, but the frames are made of that hard plastic that longs to shatter when dropped on pavement from my 189cm height, which is exactly what happened. The lenses hadn’t escaped some scuffing in its average lifespan (If I can hold onto a pair of sunglasses for a year, I’m happy), and the brown color had gradually been scuffed off in places where sweaty ears and nose touched. All in all, these were not so bad for me, and hip enough to endear me with young skater-posers in China. It’s possible to super-glue these boys back into functional shape, so they haven’t hit the bin yet. Perhaps they will reemerge once again in the future atop my head.