Every year, I lose my sunglasses.

Not just once. Not just a “whoops, left them at the café” moment. No. We’re talking a full seasonal ritual: spring arrives, I optimistically buy a new pair, and by June they’re either at the bottom of the ocean, crushed under a suitcase, or living their best life in the back of someone else’s Uber.

I have flung them off paddleboards, sacrificed them to rogue waves, watched them slide off my sunblock-slicked nose into infinity, and once saw them float just long enough to lure me into a false sense of rescue before vanishing like a tiny, shady ghost.

So each spring, I ask myself: Do I spend real money on good sunglasses, knowing full well they will be lost in 3–5 business days? Or do I buy cheap ones in bulk and accept that I’m basically subscribing to a service where I send eyewear into the void?

Let’s review the options I’ve tried in this completely unscientific but emotionally honest breakdown:

Contender #1: Maui Jim

Yes, they’re expensive. Yes, they’re basically the Range Rover of sunglasses. Yes, they somehow make everything look like a filter you didn’t know you needed. But here’s the thing: they are never long for this world. I once lost a pair on Day 2 of a 10-day trip. I wasn’t even mad. Just quietly resigned, like, “Ah. So it begins.”

If you want to feel like a glamorous yacht owner for as long as you can keep these on your head, go for it. Bonus: if you do manage to keep them all summer, you’ll feel like you’ve leveled up in life.

Contender #2: Le Specs

Trendy? Yes. Affordable? Yes. Made for serial sunglasses-losing girlies who still want to look like a 2012-era fashion editor at Coachella? Absolutely. I’ve bought the same pair of black Le Specs three times. I consider it a donation to the lost and found gods.

They’re the sweet spot between “I won’t cry if I drop these in the marina” and “I still want to look pulled together in that yacht selfie I’m absolutely posting.”

Contender #3: Goodr

These are technically made for runners and people who claim to enjoy being vertical before 8am, but I love them because they grip your face like a stage-five clinger. They don’t slip. They don’t bounce. They stay put during hikes, swims, boat rides, and that one time I got accidentally body-slammed by a toddler at a beach wedding.

Do they scream “fashion”? No. But do they say “I will survive whatever you throw at me and maybe even come home with you”? Yes. Which is more than I can say for every other pair I’ve ever loved.

So what’s the answer? Do I go full grown-up and invest in Maui Jims again? Keep throwing $50 at Le Specs and call it self-care? Strap on the Goodrs and pretend they match everything?

Or do I just skip the sunglasses entirely and book myself a trip on this ridiculously dreamy 58’ Bali sailing catamaran, where the only thing I want to lose is track of time?

Private chef. Three decks. More shaded lounging spots than I have outfits. Honestly, it might be the first vacation where my sunglasses survive — mostly because I’ll be too relaxed to lose them.

I laid it all out (including more reasons to skip the shopping and hit the water) over on the Ventana Travel blog.

You could buy more sunglasses. Or you could just sail off into the sea and forget what sunglasses even are.

Your move.