Braamfontein bars are full of hipsters. After lurching through the CBD in our duct-taped TAXI-with-no-meter Saturday night, we pulled up to the Great Dane.  We started off snickering at them – the “Hello I’m Awesome” tees, thick 80s glasses, tattered jorts over opaque tights with ankle booties noodling to the DJ mixing the Garden State soundtrack with Two Door Cinema Club. Glowing under the ironically mismatched lampshade lanterns in the courtyard, these people looked utterly…ridiculous.

Ridiculously awesome. “South African girls don’t drink beer,” but a few Black Labels later, I was perfectly comfortable asking said hipsters to try on their glasses, because you just look so damn good in them! I needed a pair. If not now, when, right? This hipster thing is so new to me, being from San Francisco and all. So when we walk into Arts on Main and I see the Retro Specs booth with its slogan “Epic in the 80’s,” I can’t resist.

 

 

Behind my new frames, I feel like one of them. So cool. Coupled with my Samsung 1992 punch-pad phone, it’s almost too cool. As Anjarae is driving us from Arts on Main to a new friend’s birthday braai, I go to try on my new purchase and realize that the “Handmade acetate” over the lens wasn’t a sticker. There it was, un-scratchable golden cursive set into the glass. Because most people actually put eyesight-enhancing lenses into their eyesight-enhancing glasses I suppose.

But some serious acetone-soaked Q-tipping finally overcame the “Handmade acetate” and I got up the courage to wear them to work today. I figured they would give me some street cred during our four hour strategic planning session. When I run out for a lunchtime airmail stamp errand, I’m feeling good because I’ve gotten some compliments and have tricked them all into thinking I’m cooler than I am.

I settle into the smartest smart car in the parking lot and look down (through my new frames) to find four inches of white shining through a gaping hole in the inner thigh of my black pants. How did I miss this?! I dig the mascara out of my Mary Poppins bag and paint my leg black with the bristles. It may not fool anyone, but it’ll at least confuse them. I flip my new glasses up – I need a break. Clearly I need to stick to the basics.