Welcome to my Home Party Pain Cave

This is a post about one of the banes of my existence – Home Parties. I hate them. What precipitated this outpouring of negative emotion was a postcard that came across my desk in today’s mail. My boss' wife just invited me to a home jewelry party. This is the third Silpada Designs party I’ve been invited to, but the first one I feel I have no other choice but to attend.

I don’t mind the jewelry thing. In fact, I like it very much. What I don’t like is the over-priced stuff that tends to be all over the Silpada catalogue. I’m not saying it’s not nice. I’m just saying that like other pyramid home party schemes, Silpada has to pay entirely too many people – and – as a forced partygoer (it IS my boss’ wife…) that fee will come out of my pocket.

I’m not picking on Silpada. I hate all home parties equally. Despite the fact that I own several Pampered Chef things, I’d just as soon skip the party, browse the catalog in the comfort of my own home, and order without feeling guilty one way or the other.

For me, home parties bring out the absolute WORST in people... No check that. Home parties bring out the worst in WOMEN. Men don't have to go to Tupperware parties, Princess House parties, Scrap booking parties, Facial/Skincare/Beauty product parties, Candle Parties, Lingerie parties, Gourmet Food Parties, Kitchenware Parties or Overpriced Jewelry parties. Conversely, when I couldn’t think of a good excuse, I've had to attend more than my share.

I hate Tupperware! I know this seems like a very “Un-American” thing to say, but it’s true. First of all, Tupperware parties make me feel unusually old. If you haven’t been to one, Tupperware parties consist of a bunch of women ooh-ing and aah-ing over stackable bowls and plastic tumblers. I’m sure they’re quality stackable bowls and plastic tumblers, but they cost an awful lot… In addition, Tupperware consultants make people play silly games. During the last party I attended, co-party-animals competed for little scraps of “Tuppercash.” I may have collected ten thousand Tupperbucks…. We then had an auction for exciting items like flour scoops, miniature Tupperware bowls, and some plastic box that holds coins. When the bidding for the flour scoop opened, I yelled, “Ten Thousand Tupperbucks!!” I got outbid, but somehow, I managed to come home with the thing anyway. (You know, I can picture older partygoers in the kitchen saying, “Ten thousand Tupperbucks? When I was a kid, I got TWO flour scoops for 300!”) To me, Tupperware is really only good if you have an infant who needs something to drum on with a wooden spoon (that you may purchase at next month’s Pampered Chef Extravaganza).

I’ll quickly run through the non-eventful parties I’ve attended: Princess House stuff is not my decorating taste. I live in an area of the world with at least ten candle shops within a two-hour radius, so I won’t even go to candle parties… Don't get me started on embarrassing lingerie parties. My sister used to sell this cheaply made lingerie called UnderCover Wear. She hosted a party at my house, where her training manager asked us embarassing things like “What animal would you compare your last lover to?” and “Have you ever used feathers?” Thankfully, my sister didn’t sell UnderCover Wear very long.

The last Gourmet Food party I went to was unusually rowdy. The poor Tastefully Simple consultant had made an appropriate amount of samples that she planned to pass around the room. What she didn’t expect were 20 ravenous women, who grabbed fists full of anything on the plates… Needless to say, samples never made it from one end of the room to the other. In addition, I brought a friend with me - who just started a career in personal training and life coaching... She read the ingredients of each and every product to see exactly how healthy it was. Meanwhile, women around the room, through their overstuffed chipmunk cheeks, said, “Whaddaya mean 20 grams of saturated fat in this?” Later, the woman who hosted the party said my trainer friend was no longer welcomed at her home parties.

Another friend started a Pampered Chef Business. I had broken a P.C. stoneware pan that I needed to replace, so I went. I sat next to a woman from my church. Throughout the demonstration, she kept looking over my shoulder and saying, "Man, you're spending a lotta money!" The Mary Kay rep in college told me I needed to throw away my old skincare line because my pores were too big.... um. yeah. Scrapbook party: I was the only one who showed up. I have no interest in scrap booking, but had to buy, for pity's sake, a $40 scrapbook that still remains empty to this day.

My sister, through with underwear, became a home-party consultant for Water Filtration Systems, Mary Kay, and Algae Pills. Regarding Mary Kay, I already had a pretty good consultant (who never makes me go to parties.) My sister got angry that I never supported her businesses…. I have felt guilty because I refuse to buy stuff from her because she never sticks to it. I have NOT told her that my mother once waited so long for a Mary Kay order that she asked me to order it for her from MY MK Consultant. “Don’t you DARE tell your sister.” I asked, “what if she finally gets around to ordering your stuff?” My mother, ever the diplomat answered, “I’ll just have two then. I’ll use it eventually.”

This is the best one: I ran into an old acquaintance that said, "Hey, Kelly. I just started my own business where I help others start their own home businesses with the potential to make thousands of dollars a month!" I looked at him and said, "Amway, huh?" He looked crestfallen. "Under no circumstances am I interested in selling Amway..." (note: I recommend this pre-emptive strike if you need to end a similar conversation quickly.)

Every time a friend starts a new business, I feel horrible explaining how "I have a strict policy not to host home parties..." I even have a secret policy not to GO to them if they can be avoided. But. My boss' wife is having a home party... I have to go, don't I? I have to buy an eighty-dollar necklace, don’t I?

Why don't men have to endure this stuff? Why aren't there Snap-on Home Parties, or Karate Home parties, or sports memorabilia home parties, or model train home parties, or industrial cleaner home parties... Or fart spray home parties... or recliner home parties... Or something? How is it my gender is the only one subjected to these? Where's the justice in this world?

DISCLAIMER: If you or a loved one is a home-party consultant, please do not be offended. I’m sure that, barring the UnderCover Wear, you all sell quality items. All I’m saying is that the home-party world isn’t for me. It's not personal.