Vanity vs. Practicality?

I got some new prescription shades in a size way too small for my round face, banking on the concept that more of the roundness will dissipate once I've shed the 30 more pounds I'm shooting for.
Right now when I wear them I look a little like Percival Dovetonsils, a character made famous by Ernie Kovaks. It's not what I'd call an attractive look.
I tried them on for Anna and she grunted and said, "Huh uh. Too soon for those."
I am considering going back to the opticians and facing Kim, the spitfire manager from South Korea.
Me: Kim, these glasses make me look like a rhino wearing shades.
Kim: I tol you, they too small! I say to get the square one!
Me: Well, you were right. Can I switch these for something more flattering?
Kim: You say you like them when you try them on!
Me: I was wrong.
Kim: Now they used!
Me: I have only worn them maybe 10 minutes total.
Kim: Maybe I make you a deal. Maybe not!
Me: I think you should, after what I spent on my regular glasses.
Kim: I gave you good deal on sungrasses!
Me: But Kim, they are awful.
Kim: I say befo- get the square one!!!

Okay. I think I'll skip going back to face Kim's wrath and just accept the fact that I erred in selecting the frames. I'll just wear them on days when I've had no carbos the day before and suck in my cheeks the whole time.
The thing is, I'm going to the coast next weekend. That means I'll be wearing bad shades and exposing my flounder belly white legs for the first time since last September. Plus I have to wear shoes on the beach now, lest I cut my little diabetes feet and end up with gangrene, then amputation.
So let's review. Bad shades, ghostly white legs and shoes on the beach. Swell.
Meanwhile, I asked Anna if I needed a haircut.
"Color," she said.
"No haircut?" I asked
"No, I'm tired of you having hair too short. Grow it out."
She wants me to look more feminine, I think so she can drag me to more of her straight girl functions without the ladies who lunch wondering what she's doing with a big old dyke.
The other night she gave me this gorgeous Ann Kline raincoat in brown faux suede with a black collar. It was a size 10 and fit except for the top part where the buttons had to strain to stay buttoned. It's all part of her conspiracy to girl me up.
She also said it was time for me to leave the Old Navy men's department behind.
By the time she's done with me, I'll be wearing a fucking crop top, flowered capris and strappy sandals in a color not found in nature.
So she thinks.