Apostrophy s

Neither I nor anyone I know would ever quite call me an accessories kinda girl. I have only owned purses in succession, and they were generally of the sporty/practical variety. My criterion was that it be sturdy enough to be worth the money I had invested in it, it must hold at least one book and my moleskin, and it must be as inconspicuous as possible. Even when my hair was embarrassingly boyishly short, it was like catching caffeinated frogs to get me to wear feminine (large and dangling) earrings. I always marvelled at those girls who allowed their ears to droop from the weight of their ear decorations. Truly, the number of fashionable items labeled with my name and the possessive contraction were relatively few.
But like so many things in the past year-and-a-bit-more that has passed, this has been changing. I now own (and wear) not just my sterling ball earrings, but also multiple styles and colors of danglies which are large enough to be seen from 15-20 feet away, and shoes that go with outfits. My cherry-red purse is anything but inconspicuous and large enough to shelter a Boy Scout camp-out.
More important than all of these other accessories- vying with my music makers (ipod, guitar, etc.) for the role of the item that I cannot be without for more than a few hours- are my sunglasses.

How can anything so fragile and 50's looking be so important?

Well, if you had a pair you would understand their magic. The anonymity and glamour which accompanies this single article of wear is astonishing. Behind them I cannot simply walk: I must stroll, traipse, even strut. Even in the ratty cleaning/laundry day jeans, I feel that I must be that movie star or that author, or that singer who is just on the brink of being famous. That those I pass in the street just must be thinking to themselves, "hmm... I wonder if that's someone I should know about." Then I saunter past (leaving, of course, a wake of dazzle) and go about my daily life. And that is the power housed in my wonderful sunglasses.