He tried on the Durand in tortoise shell. Suddenly, he didn't look like a horror movie librarian; he looked like someone who wrote thoughtful essays about architecture.

"Then stop trying to buy eyes at a drugstore," Sarah laughed. "Just go to . They have a store right downtown in the Pearl District."

Leo checked his GPS. There was a Warby Parker just three blocks away. When he stepped inside, the vibe shifted from 'fluorescent pharmacy' to 'indie bookstore.' The walls were lined with organized rows of frames—acetate, metal, cat-eye, and aviator. A friendly clerk handed him a tray. "Take your time," she said. "Mix and match."

"It’s the opposite of an ordeal. If you want the full experience, go to their . They’re everywhere now—malls, high streets, boutiques. You just walk in, grab a basket, and start playing dress-up. Most of them even have optometrists on-site if you need a fresh prescription."