Hipper than Tom Cruise dancing in his underwear

I only had to wait 25 years but it official: I am hip and I didn’t even know it.

Readers who traveled vicariously with me a few months ago may remember that I lost my sunglasses along the way. Well, technically they aren’t lost as I know exactly where they are. They are in the water outside a glass factory near Venice. Lot of good that does me. But the loss did result in a hugely entertaining story involving some Italian rats, as well as a need to do a little shopping for a temporary replacement pair. As if I needed an excuse to shop on vacation.

I figured I would wait to buy a nice new pair when the sun came out again, like, say, July. But last week we were strolling around an Oregonian mall – where there is no sales tax – and I spotted a very empty and lonely Sunglasses Hut that was having a sale. Figuring it was less fattening than the tempting Cinnabon stand nearby, I dragged Rob in to help me find some new sun specs.

The hipster 25ish guy helping me was rather confused when I explained that I needed some sunglasses but I didn’t need them to be terribly stylish or trendy. Just functional and able to stay on my narrow nose. The look on his face said, “God, please don’t ever let me get as old and boring as this woman.”

After modeling a dozen or so pairs, I finally settled on a very lightweight set that was just stylish enough to look nice while not seeming “sooo 2009.”

As the credit card was being swiped I said, “Well, now I don’t have to wear the old pair of Ray Bans that I’ve had since high school.”

Another sales guy who had emerged briefly looked up from texting on his cell phone and asked, “What ones do you have?”

“Oh, the old Wayfarer ones from the ‘80s.”

He stopped texting and said with a gasp, “You have vintage Wayfarers??”

“Umm, yeah, I guess,” I said, trying to get my head around my high school days being considered vintage.

He then walked me over to the Ray Ban display and explained that Wayfarers are back, totally hip, and THE style of the moment. I looked at his display and said, “Well, the ones I have aren’t like any of these. They have a metal frame around…”

He didn’t let me finish. He could barely contain himself as he shrieked and bounced, “You have vintage CLUBMASTERS???”

He then immediately apologized since apparently the look on my face was of pure terror.

“OH, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. But Clubmasters are nearly impossible to find! And you have VINTAGE ONES!! Oh, you have to wear them!! You really have to wear them!”

I hesitated and explained that wearing my old pair – whatever they are called -- makes me feel 16 again and I'm not really sure I want to go back there. This came as a huge relief to my sales guy whose commission was suddenly back in play.

As Rob and I left the store newly prepared for the sun should it ever appear again, the texter looked at me with this weird combination of awe and envy and disbelief. It was as if, for a moment, I was a Sunglasses Hut celebrity, über trendy and hip, cutting an edge like I have never cut before.

They say styles always come back if you wait long enough…or, it seems, 25 years. Now where are those vintage Jelly shoes I used to wear with my pegged acid wash jeans?