Small sunglasses are out - and I hate to see them go

As a former card-carrying member of the itty-bitty eyewear committee, there’s no denying that these are dark times.

Small sunnies had an absolutely generational run – headlining a pre-pandemic ’90s revival and securing a permanent part-time position atop many a schnoz. But alas, it appears their almost decade-long reign as our go-to frame has come to its bitter end.

The legacy of the little lens

It was January 2018. We’d just breached the surface of the 2010s boho-chic tsunami, when an email to Kim Kardashian from then-husband Kanye West single-handedly altered the trajectory of statement eyewear.

In this fateful missive, brought to light during an episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians, West had one very specific request for his wife: The oversized noughties sunnies that had become her signature had to go.

“[Kanye] sent me a whole email like, “‘You cannot wear big glasses any more,’” Kim explained at the time, per People.

Read more

Save up to 70% on designer sunglasses

“He sent me like, millions of ’90s photos with tiny little glasses.”

We’d seen the first high-fashion inklings in late 2017, when supermodel Bella Hadid soft-launched the ’90s-inspired micro-frame across her runway and off-duty street style portfolios.

But it was a breakout generation of influencers the likes of Emma Chamberlain and James Charles that brought Matrix-esque eyewear to the masses, with Coachella 2018 as their springboard.

The barely-there micro frames were a textbook case of fashion over function – their narrow edges impeding our field of vision to an almost hazardous degree – but they held an enduring place in our hearts nonetheless.

Henceforth, they cemented themselves as a cornerstone of mainstream culture, with one itty-bitty oval pair taking pride of place in my accessory rotation well into the mid-2020s.

But in the past year, there has come a tangible shift.

The 2000s bug-eye that squashed ’90s chic

Suspected recession indicator aside (don’t quote me on that), the bug-eye is back and bigger than ever.

Owing to a coordinated strike from Gen Zers, luxury fashion houses and, preponderantly so, the seismic influence of Charli XCX’s Brat Summer, the golden age of the micro-frame has gone the way of the dodo.

2026 officially marked an aggressive shift back to larger-than-life maximalism – so much so, even a Kanye-free Kim K has reverted to her big-lensed roots in recent times.

Even the pared-back, model-off-duty aesthetic – driven once more by Bella Hadid and Hailey Bieber – has gravitated away from little lenses and towards the allure of deadstock acetate frames.

They’re now a consistent runway fixture from Paris to Milan, and are donned by the masses daily from Tokyo to New York.

The contemporary reprisal is a more refined, sculptural and precise approach to its chaotic noughties counterpart, but the commitment to sheer size remains.

When all is said and done, perhaps this go-big-or-go-home approach has come at an opportune moment.

While just one year ago, you would have had to pry my tiny glasses from my cold, dead hands, over the past few months, I’d admittedly felt the beginnings of itty-bitty frame fatigue creeping in.

Read more

‘Has the ship sailed for me?’ The dilemma Gen X and Millennials face as low-rise pants return

As my wardrobe evolved, I began to find my tiny sunnies were not standing the test of time.

Could it be the introverted appeal of shielding my face à la Paris Hilton dodging the paparazzi, or simply the Leonian desire to appear vaguely mysterious and unknowable?

Either way, the siren call of the bug-eye is certainly tough to ignore – it may be only a matter of time until I give in.