Some objects are made for one person and some are made to be given away, and I have always thought a pair of sunglasses sits somewhere aching in between. You wear them at the height of a bright day, which is when everything looks its best and everyone looks a little better than they are, and then years later you find them in a drawer and the whole summer comes back at once.
The Flak 2.0 XL is the larger of the two Flaks, and larger here means more lens between your eyes and the sky. It measures 59mm across the lens on a 12mm bridge with 133mm temples, on a frame 126mm wide.
The lens is Plutonite, Oakley's own material, and it filters one hundred per cent of UVA, UVB and UVC along with harmful blue light up to 400 nanometres — all of it, which is the only number in optics I find genuinely romantic, because it is a promise with no remainder.
The optics are HDO, Oakley's high definition standard, and the lens comes in a great many Prizm tunings: Outfield, Golf, Deep Water Polarized, Black Polarized, Ruby, and a photochromic that darkens from clear to black as the light changes, which is a lens that falls in and out of love with the afternoon.
The earsocks and the nosepads are Unobtainium, a material that grips more the damper it gets. Everything else in the world gets slippery when you sweat. This holds on harder. I did not expect to be moved by a nosepad and yet here we are.
The part that matters most is the smallest.
Sopot was built to be walked in the sun and it knows exactly what it is. Bohaterów Monte Cassino — Monciak, if you want to sound like you live here — runs downhill through the middle of everything towards the sea, and every street that runs towards water has more people in love on it than any street that does not.
Halfway along stands Krzywy Domek, the Crooked House, its whole facade warped as though you were looking at it through water.
You will wear these everywhere from a bright court to a long evening outside, and while you are here — the pier is 511 metres of planking walked out over the bay, and there is a particular thing that happens near the end of a long pier, where the town gets quiet behind you and there is nothing ahead, and people say things out there they had not planned to say.
Then climb the brick lighthouse of 1903 and look back over the roofs at all of it.
"A photochromic lens darkens as the day brightens. It falls in and out of love with the afternoon."
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