Essay: Contact Lenses 
by Christian Dior

Eyes are our last bastion of intimacy and privacy. We stop short of putting in our eyes things we happily place in or on other parts of our body. The primary reason for this is, of course, squeamishness. Reference to the iconic scene in Luis Buñel's 1929 Surrealist classic Un Chien Andalou, in which a woman's eyeball is slashed, sends people gagging in the way that the ear sequence in Reservoir Dogs does not. And as any contact lens wearer will tell you, mere mention of their daily, optical routine provokes their most iron-stomached of friends to beg them to halt their descriptions mid-sentence. Whereas private daily ablutions or the most depraved sexual proclivities may have entered common parlance, the eye, it seems, remains a forbidden terrain.

It is not only squeamishness that makes these contact lenses by Christian Dior such an audacious piece of fashion product, however. Designed to embellish, rather than change the colour of the eye as other coloured contact lenses do, these two-month 'occasional lenses' encircle the iris with a halo of golden metal flecks referred to in the accompanying literature as 'sequins'. In a further-and crucial-flourish, the letters 'CD' are printed below, letting anyone that looks you in the eyes know that you are wearing Christian Dior. This act of looking, be it at the lenses, or through them is key to their ideological audacity. In what is surely the ultimate act of branding (both figurative and literal), the contacts present a world through the lens of Christian Dior, where everything is coloured and marked by their corporate vision. So insolent and brazen is this act that it almost bypasses the tackiness of logo-wearing into a fearless new world where any part of the body may carry global fashion's scorching mark.

Contact lenses by Christian Dior at Christian Dior +4420 7245 1330