Sip, Shop, Shoot Me Now

SHOP, SIP, $AVE! the invitation read.

It was another home shopping party.

Shoot me now.

Don’t get me wrong — I love to shop. And I used to love these parties. But in the past few years I’ve been looking for excuses to wriggle out of them as quickly as possible.

How many bags-with-a-million-pockets does one woman need?

Direct selling is nothing new. Tupperware parties have been around since the 1950s. And I don’t think my mom ever bought a lipstick at a store. She got it from her Avon lady, just as all her friends did.

The consultant started bringing out all of her tools and gadgets and the guests had to gather around … I was terrified.

I clearly remember my first experience at a home party. I was in middle school, and my friend’s older sister was having a Mary Kay party at her house. And we were allowed to be there!

We were enthralled at the whole presentation: “Just dip the brush in a little water and the eye shadow can be used as eyeliner!”

I vowed to save up my babysitting money so I could buy that pink compact filled with my “customized selection” of shadows.

I didn’t really experience direct selling again until I was married. My husband and I had just moved into our first house, and  I had never even heard of Pampered Chef. But before I had even unpacked all the boxes, here came an invitation in my mailbox.

We were in a new neighborhood, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to meet new friends, have some wine, and maybe shop a little. Fun!

But this was more than just “get together and mingle.”

The consultant started bringing out all of her tools and gadgets and the guests had to gather around for a demonstration of how they worked. I was terrified.

[lz_ndn video=29171268]

I didn’t — still don’t — cook, so I couldn’t understand what in the world the host was talking about. I couldn’t imagine why I had to have a “mix and chop.” It looked like a pinwheel spatula. But I bought it.

I also bought an apple slicer that I used exactly once, and a plastic micro-cooker that I put on the stove top. It melted.

That wasn’t the last of it. I bought several more items at other Pampered Chef parties, too, because that’s what happens. You’re at a friend’s house for the party, then the host convinces someone else to host another party, and the same people get invited to that one, too. I think our neighborhood bought the entire Pampered Chef inventory in one year.

Eventually, someone discovered Tastefully Simple, otherwise known as easy-to-prepare food. Think beer bread — lots and lots of beer bread.

Then we moved on to Taste of Home Entertaining, which featured every kind of tray, platter, and serving dish you could ever need. I bought a ton of them, and still have them.

Over the next several years, there was a blur of other parties — candles, children’s books, even sex toys. I bought something at every darn party I went to, because it’s just rude not to buy anything. Everyone else is shelling out for these things; why shouldn’t you? But I never hosted my own party until the jewelry came along.

More parties, more jewelry, more “have another glass of wine and host a party!” pressure.

I like new bling as much as the next gal, so when the first wave of jewelry parties started, I was all in. Silpada was my first. I loved it. I loved that my friends loved it. And I really loved that as my friends bought jewelry, I got free jewelry.

After we did the whole round of everyone hosting a party every few months, we realized we all had the exact same (overpriced) rings, bracelets and necklaces. Very lame.

A couple of other cheaper jewelry lines popped up, but they didn’t last long, and neither did the jewelry.

More parties, more jewelry, more “have another glass of wine and host a party!” pressure.

The reason I can’t just say no is that these parties are disguised as fundraisers.

The final straw for me has been Thirty-One bags. There isn’t a soccer mom in town who doesn’t have the Zip-Top Organizing Utility Tote. I have three, though not a single kid plays soccer.

The reason I can’t just say no is that now these parties are disguised as fundraisers. I feel like a horrible person if I turn down an invitation to “Help Underprivileged Kids go to Camp Roger.” Who doesn’t want to help kids?

This weekend, I’m going to Shop, Sip and $ave! for the Keep Collection. They’re bracelets with charms stuck on them. You get to pick the charms, and create your own unique design. Whoopee!

I’ll have a glass of wine, buy something, then put it in the back of my jewelry drawer, where it will remain for eternity.

But here is my solemn vow: I will not sign up to host the next party. I don’t need any more stuff.

And someone has to stop the madness.