They’re hot pink and bright yellow. The frame shape is that of the iconic Ray-Ban Wayfarer, designed and made enormously popular in the 1980’s, though this particular pair is just a $15 knock-off. I got them from Joey, who bought them to match our friends’–– James started it all, with a citrus orange and green pair that were left in his car and faded to peach and pale mint. Jeremy’s were neon green and yellow, and Joey had a classic red pair and then bought another teal pair. None of them intentionally bought them to match the others, but as we all became close friends that summer, they noticed their matching sunglasses and began wearing them all the time, matching on purpose. I was the only one in our team who didn’t have them, so Joey felt I needed my own pair.

I stuck out in our group of friends for a couple reasons. Most obviously, I was the only girl, which to some might seem awkward, but I’ve always been “one of the guys.” Even when Joey and I started going out, it didn’t much change our relationship with the other two guys. My name even starts with a different letter than all their names; I called them “the J’s.” We didn’t care about such trivia. The J’s and I, we were best buddies the whole summer, and I fit right in with the three of them, despite gender and name differences, especially once I had these Sunglasses.

The Sunglasses tied us all together. We were a vivacious bunch, and we often included our other friends in our shenanigans, but we had the Sunglasses. We were a tribe. So cool in our 80’s shades; yet so cheesy, but so not caring. They set us apart, not to make us superior, just unique. The nights spent driving around Burbank, the long hours spent on the tire swing, the spontaneous dance parties and jam sessions, the zesty conversations (ranging from philosophical to absurd)–– all these were fun, but made meaningful by our bond to each other, manifested in the Sunglasses. And yes, like Corey Hart, we wore our sunglasses at night. A lack of sunshine does not preclude style. Nor did it preclude our friendship, which burned brighter than any California afternoon we encountered.

But distance does hinder it. Summer faded, and our Sunglasses vanished with it. I moved back to Utah for college, leaving the J’s behind in California. James sat on his sunglasses, which broke. Jeremy lost his at the guitar store, though he did buy new ones– plain white ones, not colorful like ours were. Joey and I broke up, and we no longer speak to each other, but I think he lost his red ones; I don’t know about the teal. The only J I really talk to anymore is Jeremy, only through the occasional text message or Facebook comment, and the impression I get from him is that they don’t hang out so much. Our Sunglasses have gone, and with them went a few threads in the cord that bonded us together, which is further weakened by our respective colleges.