Just Because You Can't See, That Doesn't Mean You Can't Look Good!

So, I sell eyeglasses: it's what I do, and I'm damn good at it. I've been in the business since I was 17, so that's 9 years now. It's a good job that didn't require a college degree, and I don't need to keep up a license. I love helping people pick out glasses, so I figured I would help you out too.

WARNING: there is a LOT of information here. If you have any questions, please feel free to let me know.

WHY YOU NEED CUTE SPECS
If you wear contacts, you need glasses as a backup. What happens if you wake up with a nasty eye infection from sleeping with your makeup on and your contacts in? I firmly believe that if you're afraid of glasses, or you don't like the way you look in them, someone has not done you justice. There are too many options out there to not own something adorable and affordable that fits perfectly. It's kind of like a cute bra that fits like a glove: very necessary for some of us, and why shouldn't it be cute? This is your FACE!

THE COST OF LOOKIN' GOOD
If you're lucky enough to have it, research your insurance options. Contact the company directly and get a list of in network providers. Some companies will offer a free pair once a year to their employees. In some states, you can claim glasses and contacts under the medical section when you file your taxes!
If you're unlucky like me and you don't have insurance, be smart and shop around. Be weary of knock offs, and deals that are too good to be true, because they usually are. Always make sure you understand your warranty and exchange options, and keep copies of your receipts.


DOLLARS AND SENSE
Your first step is to get your eyes examined, because the price of glasses is based on the prescription. Depending on the strength, you may have restrictions to what you can wear. A professional optician can help you choose what's best for your needs, while explaining your options. If you don't feel comfortable with the person helping you, ask someone else's opinion. Or try another store, but don't settle! You should feel comfortable and confident in your purchase.
A nice complete pair of name brand eyeglasses (think Vogue, or RayBan) should cost you around $300, depending on your prescription. Then there are the designer glasses (Versace, Prada, Fendi) that can easily and quickly reach $500-$1000. Of course, if you're not interested in name brands, you can always go to WalMart or a bargain basement optical shop and find a pair under $100. Just remember, you get what you pay for!

FRAME OPTIONS
You can pre-shop online, but I don't recommend purchasing online. There is too much room for error, and the final product is typically poorly manufactured. If you prefer to do your research online, there are tons of websites with try on options where you can upload your picture and virtually "try on" different shapes. You'll come across face charts, but they aren't as helpful as a human in a mirror. If your face is round, you want to choose something with angles that will bring out the lines in your face. If you have a square jaw, you want some curves to soften your features.

FINDING THE RIGHT FIT
There are 3 main numbers to look for when sizing glasses. The first is width, and it ranges from 45-70 millimeters. The second number is going to be the nose bridge measurement. The third number is the length behind your ear. Kind of like jeans, all brands size differently. A size 18 in one brand might be a size 22 in another. Most manufacturers (not just glasses) aren't plus size considerate, and you really need to TRY THINGS ON for the best fit. There are sizes on every single pair of glasses on a shelf, and some of them are specifically built for full faces. Covergirl had a line called "Designed to Fit," and Queen Latifiah modeled for them. There are some other brands, but not very many. If you find a frame online you're in love with, write it down and there's a good chance someone can order it for you. Go into a store and bring a friend, or let a friendly professional help you narrow down your options. Just like picking out clothes and shoes, only YOU know what you like and what feels right.

Pale as Porcelain & Pleasantly Plump

"Fat looks good tan." That's what I used to say. And believe me, the proof is in my pudding like legs.
A few years ago, I got over the fear of tanning beds collapsing under my weight, thus trapping me inside a glass coffin of UV rays and death. I would put my ear buds in, listen to something nice, and zone out for up to 15 minutes. Within a week or two, an amazing optical allusion had accrued. My chunky monkey legs seemed to thin out, and my cellulite was not nearly as visible. I admired my strong, thick thighs, although they were by no means smaller. I liked the way I looked, but the facts of melanoma are strong deterrents. I don't tan anymore for many reasons. Partly because of the financial burden, partly because oompa loompa orange is not my color. Mostly, because tan doesn't equal beautiful.
I am a very pale girl, almost translucent, with all my veins in my arms and hands blue and quite visible. I like to joke that I glow in the dark, especially naked. I don't have any deep seeded issues with this, thanks in part to my wonderful man friend who likes how milky white my complexion is. I like it too, especially next to his light brown skin.
Despite his support, for some reason, I feel more confident with a tan. My family tree is chronically caucasian, except for a smidgen of American Indian on my mothers side. I'm not very athletic or outdoorsy, so there's no reason I would be tanned "naturally." There's no way in hell I'd be caught on the beach in a bikini without some color on my skin, and the most I get makes my tiny white stretchmarks pink. But that little kiss of UV rays makes me feel better. It makes me want to work out more, to wear sleeveless shirts and shorts. My mother would gladly pay for a membership to a tanning salon, but that's not what I want. I don't want to have to rely on a fake bake tan to feel better about myself.

26: Coffee, Cocktails, and Cigarettes

I turned 26 this week. My birthday was spent with family, with fajitas for dinner, razzleberry pie (raspberry and blackberry) with vanilla bean ice cream for dessert. I've been spending a lot of time with my family. Lots of laughing, eating and drinking, dying hair, movie watching, yahtzee playing. Not so much dieting or exercise. I also finished a book the other day, called "Good In Bed" by Jennifer Weiner. Honestly, it was painstakingly predictable, with more daddy issues than I care to cope with. The reason I liked it enough to finish it, was because the heroine started off fat, she struggled with her weight along with other life problems, and she ended up fat, but happier. That's the kind of story I like, with funny, smart women. If anyone else has suggestions, I'd like them very much.
As far as cutting back on my many indulgences, I've already cut down my soda intake and replaced it with water. Simply replacing cokes with water made me drop 10 pounds in 2 months a few years ago. I realize that now I'm getting older and it might not happen that fast, but water is a healthier choice, one that isn't going to set me back too terribly.
I'll only drink a soda with an alcoholic beverage, which I'll admit is more than a few a week. I'll also admit that I have a weakness for chain smoking cigarettes when I drink, and I have an addiction to coffee every morning. I'm not going to pretend that I want to quit drinking or smoking cigarettes. After all, quitting is for quitters. All I'm trying to do is loose a little damn weight. I realize that these, what some might consider "bad" habits, might be hindering my conquest. But there are some things I'm just not willing to part with. 10 pounds of flesh is worth it to indulge in coffee, cocktails and cigarettes.

Stuffin' Shuffle

This entire week has been both busy and unlucky, but I'm thankful for the pelasent family downtime. I got in a car accident (it was his fault, not mine), so I'm dealing with the unpleasantness of insurance claims. My favorite uncle came to visit from Florida with his wife and new baby, which made the estrogen levels in my family hit an all time high (they are suffering from baby fever). My little sister and her army husband are staying in town before they are both transferred to Korea before Christmas. My 26th birthday is next week, and I'm excited to see what I'm going to get. Yesterday, I got stung in the finger by a bee and the swelling is slowing the process of my home made Christmas cards. There are a lot of friends and family coming and going this year, so it's almost time to make the rounds.

Last week I went outlet shopping with my baby fevered family, and I found a $60 pair of Lane Bryant jeans for $29. I bought a size 20 long, thinking this is going to be the last pair of fat pants I purchase and I need a nice pair for holiday togetherness (aka: pictures). I didn't try them on because I'm confident that 20's will be fine since my 18's are a little too tight, and my thighs felt sweaty from shopping. I tried the jeans on the next day, and they're too fucking small. I mean, I can zip them up, but they are by no means flattering. I'm considering exchanging them for a larger size, but that makes me want to kick myself in the ass for being in a size 22 jeans again. I never feel as fat as I am until I go shopping for new clothes.

Until 2011 ends, I'm going to stuff myself with turkey and cheesecakes and lemon bars and sweet potatoes, and I'm not going to feel the least bit guilty. This is the stuffin' shuffle. Or stuffing shovel. There's really no difference. My sister and I constantly joke with our chins pressed to our chests about eating our feelings, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to eat every feeling I have. I'm going to mix my adult beverages with real sodas, not diet, and I'm going to enjoy full flavored beers before I trade them in for bottles of wine. This is my last big fat hurrah before the new year starts, and some of my bad habits come to an end, yet again.

A Fat Family History

I was raised on biscuits, grits, fried eggs and bacon on a country culdesac in east Texas. It was a couple of acres of land roaming with dogs and chickens, and I love my memories of growing up in the same house my mother did. I inherited my green eyes and curly hair from my mother, and my knack for hands on creativity from my grandmother. My younger sisters and I were loved equally and frequently. We were raised to mind our manners, and we were not to leave the kitchen table until we finished what was on our plates. We were all comforted by the softness of my grandmothers underarm, and the warmness of my mothers embrace. Their big soft bodies never registered with me as grotesque, but rather comforting. By the time I hit 16, I was as big as, and eventually bigger than, they were. It didn't register as a health problem because the most influential women in my life were fat, and they were wonderful. To love and be loved is to be blissfully blind to a lot of things.

It's easy, and false, to assume that if your parents are fat, than you're destined to be fat too. It is true that if a parent is plump, there is a 50% chance that the child will be also. Most important are that there are environmental effects that change that outcome (diet and exercise...duh). Although there are some very rare and extreme cases that can be blamed on a genetic mutation, that's not the case for most of us. If you're more interested in the link between genetics and obesity, the centers for disease control and prevention have an interesting article here: http://www.cdc.gov/Features/Obesity/

My family does not have a history of diabetes or heart disease. I have regular blood pressure and blood sugar, and I happen to know that my iron count is excellent (whatever the hell that meas). In those areas, I'm very lucky, but I do struggle with weight loss. This is because of unhealthy habits and lists of excuses, not because of any major medical setback.

Hello, My Name Is Kristin, And I'm Fat.

I'm pretty smart, pretty funny, pretty awesome, and I'm pretty fat. I'm a pretty fat white girl. If you like numbers, I'm 25 years old, 5'10", 270lbs. Size 20 jeans. I wear an impossible bra size 40B, XXL shirts to hide my belly. I have stretch marks on almost every part of my body: white, pink, and red. This is not the most I've ever weighed: I topped out at a very round 330lbs.

There are some people who would say "that's disgusting, how could you let yourself get like that?" These people have never struggled with obesity. The people that fret about gaining, loosing, or maintaining the same dreaded 10 pounds that everybody struggles with.

Then there are people almost or around 100 pounds or more overweight. These people gain and loose 50 or more pounds like it ain't no thang. These are my people. These are the weighty warriors. We fight constantly, a battle we wage on ourselves. Win or loose, it's a fascinating process.

A few summers ago, I dropped a bunch of weight and got down to a blissful 180, and a perfect (for me) size 14 jeans. The weight was lost naturally, through diet and exercise: the good ole' fashioned way. 4 years passed and I find myself quickly approaching that dreaded 300 pounds again, something I said I would never let happen. I've lost the weight before, and I'm about to do it again. Any questions?