On Swimming Goggles

I think I may have cracked one of the perpetual stress-high agendas in my life: buying new swimming goggles. For those of you who swim suggest you tune out now and go look at huge domestic cats on youtube or something. For those of you who don't, welcome to a whole new deeply stressful world...

...so you need a new pair of goggles, because they do break or wear out or you forget them at the gym. Easy peasey, buying new goggles easy. NOT. Because.... for a start, they never have the ones they had last time in the store - which you came to love and cherish and fondle sometimes, and you are not allowed to try a new pair on without someone trying to arrest you. (My theory on this is that somehow the bridge of the nose has taken on some totemic semblence to the gusset of women's swimwear: once tried on, forever unhygenic. Which sucks. Because you do really need to try on a pair of goggles before you know if they will fit you. But they display them in security-tagged and selotaped plastic cases to stop you doing this. Come on people. Would you expect me to buy a suit without trying it on. Where's the pro-swimmer karma here?) And everyone who works in sports shops is completely uninterested in swimming goggles. They are far more interested in trying to sell you a pair of gold football boots, or a Nike tshirt for fifty squid, or a pair of trainers with a USB port. When you ask where the goggles section is, they point listlessly to a remote and dusty corner of the store, which is manned by the girl who started that morning, and is not allowed to sanction purchases over £2.99 because it is her first day. You can see it on their faces when you ask about goggles. `Obviously a fag. Get him out of store asap. Oh, here comes someone who looks like they might be interested in the limited edition snooker shirts we got in last night.` "Hello sir. Can I interest you in a David Beckham limited edition spunk cloth we've just had delivered from the Castro?" (And hey, I'm not even going to go there with the who is gayer than who in the whole marketing of sports products.)


So you are buying blind, hoping you can accurately guess the size of the bridge of your nose to the size of the bridge of the goggles, through a plastic case which is usually covered in stickers with random demarcations like `Trainer' and `Sprint' and `Silver' and `Triathlon'. (Guys, if I was a triathlete I'd be getting my goggles made and sponsored by Porche or something.)


And the whole tint thing. Normal plain lenses is good, but you worry about looking like something ot of Alice In Wonderland. Blue? Yes, but a bit weird, and it kind of fucks with your head - in a bad and good way I admit - when you are actually swimming. Grey? Too Garry Oldman when he is slinking around London in Dracula. Black? Yeah, but no, but yeah, but...fuck I don't know. Other colours like orange and purple and red? Do I look like I am going to a Devo reunion gig? (I have also considered getting one of those swimming hats with an MP3 player, but that is a whole other story re music and swimming.)

Anyway, I bought a new pair of goggles last night. A quick try on on the bus going home last night does suggest that these new ones may fit. Will report back.