April 28, 2006

Why men don’t have home parties

It’s amazing really, what women do to each other and to themselves. This is how it generally goes for me. I get invited to a make-up party or some other kind of home party. I immediately start to think of excuses for why not to go. I suddenly become very "busy" if I’m invited in person. If it’s an invitation in the mail, I audibly growl a bit as I look at the calendar and notice I’m free. Then I contemplate for hours, usually days actually over whether or not I should go. "I’ll have to buy something," I think. "I don’t really need anything." In the end, I usually convince myself to go. The inner demons get the best of me by calling me anti-social, a home-body. They tell me I need a "night out." They tell me I’ll have fun.

So, I go. I sit there, in someone’s living room or dining room for hours, instead of having a nice dinner out, catching a movie, reading a book, playing with the girls, or catching up on sleep. I listen to things that make me want to roll my eyes. Because I’m polite, I don’t. I peruse the catalog or product set-up and try to figure out how soon I can go home, and what product I can buy that will cause the least amount of damage to the American Express. Which product will not make my husband roll his eyes? (I haven’t found one yet.)

This week, at one of these parties, I found myself wondering why women do this to each other. Each party has the same format. "If you book a party, you get this. . .(oohs, aahs). If you book a party, your hostess will get this. . . (oohs, aahs)." The "hostess" either looks around the room with pleading eyes or ends up finding her belly button extremely interesting during this little exchange. You start to rationalize each purchase. You start to rationalize booking a party. You want to be a good friend. You don’t really need that foot scrub, but it’s. . . just. . .so. . . damn. . .tempting. If you buy it, you can also pick a free product. "My God, what if there’s free eye cream! FREE EYE CREAM!" It starts to get to you.

Because of this scenario I once ended up hosting three make-up parties within one calendar year. All my friends and family filled their bathroom cabinets up with stuff they’ll never use; and I collected free gift after free gift that I’ve never used, and finally, at the last party, with the help of my relatives, I said, "No." I practically needed a 12 step program to do it; but "no" is a really great word, cathartic even. NO. It feels so good to say it ladies. Say it with me. . . NO. The fact that 99% of women can’t say this word when it comes to home parties is the reason why they are so successful. These parties feed off of peer pressure and the female flaw: the complete and utter inability to say "No" to a friend.

Can you imagine if men had these types of parties? Let’s imagine a tool party for men. Men gather on a Friday night during a basketball game or on a Sunday afternoon during a football game. (I know, I’ve pretty much lost you right here haven’t I? See why this would NEVER happen. Follow along though, just for fun.) All the men gather in the living room of the host. The party begins.

"I’d like to welcome you to Dan’s house tonight for this wonderful and exciting Terrific Tools party. I’d also like to thank Dan for asking me to be here tonight. Because Dan has hosted this party, he’s going to receive a complimentary drill bit set." (Hands set to Dan. Dan lights up with absolute JOY! The other men stare at the bit set for a moment or two. They start to think, "I want a bit set.") The party continues. "If you’d like a bit set, you can purchase one for $70 or (and pauses for effect). . . you can host your own party and receive one for FREE!" The men all clap, ooh, and aah. "Now if you decide to book a party tonight you will receive a goody bag, but I’m not telling what’s in it! You’ll have to wait and find out!" The men stare at the goody bags and let their imaginations run WILD. The presenter moves on to discuss the products.

"Did you know that the tools that you currently have are complete crap? Did you know that they are made from duck feces? Did you know that just by touching them, you are potentially putting chemicals into your body from the duck feces?" The men’s mouths drop open; they look at each other. One mouths, "Oh my GOD! Did you know that? I didn’t know that!" The presenter continues.

"Our tools are made from 100% pure liquid magma. Yes! It’s true. We drill in China to the center of the Earth. We get the best liquid magma through a revolutionary system that extracts the most durable materials on all of the Earth. We then put this liquid magma into the tool molds, and fly it in our specialized airplanes to the North Pole. Once there, we allow the magma to cool, creating the most natural but durable products known to MAN." (Men "ooh" and "ahh" some more.) Twenty more minutes of magma nonsense continue, as the presenter takes the men through the tool catalog page by page explaining why these tools are "the best," and "like no other." The men follow along, hanging on every word, even though they are all perfectly capable of reading on their own.

Before the ordering begins, the presenter gives the pitch on how GREAT it is to be a presenter. They talk about all the money the men would be able to make by becoming a Terrific Tools party presenter. They discuss how you could be driving a BRAND NEW H3 (once you sell $3 billion worth of tools and give up your first born child). Some of the men think, "Wow! A Hummer. I wish I could have a Hummer." (O.k. well actually, this part could be true.)

At the end of the presentation, the men line up to give their orders to the presenter. EVERY man has found something he has to have. The men line up in the dining room so as they wait, they can stuff their faces with cookies, sandwiches, and chips that have been neatly arranged by Dan. Each man spends twice the amount he had thought he would. Several of the men decide to have their own tool parties. After all, that drill bit set is "so cool," and it’s a "great deal." Dan is allowed to pick $200 worth of free products. He orders $600 worth of products. The party is a success!

This is completely ludicrous, right? But go back; insert any home marketed make-up name instead of tools, and change "men" to "women." Instead of duck feces, insert lamb sweat. You’ve now got something that happens on a daily basis. These parties don’t happen with men because men aren’t wired the way women are. They don’t care if they say, "No" to a friend or relative.

When a friend or relative calls and asks me to go shopping and I don’t want to. . . I go. When a friend or relative calls a man and asks him to go shopping. . . oh, wait. That one’s just stupid. Like when does that EVER happen? O.k. a wife asks her husband to go shopping. He says, "No." He doesn’t feel bad; he feels no guilt. He won’t contemplate his nay-saying for the next week. In fact, two minutes from the question, he won’t even remember his wife asked it!

People have built empires around female peer pressure and the fact that we just can’t say "No." I remember, after my third make-up party, the presenter asked me if she could ask me some questions. I was exhausted from ordering three times the amount of stuff I’d told my husband I’d order. I was spent from refusing to book another party. I think I may have even sweat when she asked about yet another party, and I hedged and looked away before finally saying, "No." So, of course, I was worn down. I said she could ask me her questions.

She started in on the whole "you would be great at this" junk. She told me how! much! money! I could make! Playing along, I asked her about the commission. She told me about the commission. This is when I finally woke up. I work from home, and am commission only. I work as a recruiter, placing candidates in salaried jobs. I make 70% commission, and not off the price of a lipstick. I told her so. In a smart tone, she asked how many hours I spent working. I told her I worked extremely limited hours; and I could work with my daughter on my lap. (I felt like I was gaining some momentum.)

"Well," she stuttered, "you can do this on weeknights and weekends. It’s ME time." "That’s not ME time," I retorted. "I work during day time hours and can work when my daughter is napping or playing with a friend. I can also work on-line at 2 a.m. if I need to or want to, but best of all, I don’t have to work nearly as hard as you do and I can make more money than you. I am NOT at all interested. My job doesn’t require me to use family and friends to make a living." I had her on her heels. She’d been bugging me about doing this for a while now. I was getting sick of it.

She said, "But will your job buy you a car???" She thought she had me here. She really did. The look in her eye told me so. "Honey, I can buy myself an XJ8 if I want to, in any color I choose, if I work hard enough and make enough money." (Let me just add here that I do not have an XJ8 and right now have no desire to work hard enough to even get one. Even if I did have the money for one, I’d never buy one. It’s more fun to drool over them and dream anyway. "Dream cars" don’t require gas or tune ups.) I asked her how much she made last year. She told me. That was the end of our conversation. That was also the end of my string of parties. My friends and family were EXTREMELY grateful. So was my husband.

I wish I was wired more like a man when it comes to parties like these. I wish I could say "No" to friends and family more easily. I wish I didn’t have to have the guilt that follows saying "No" when it comes to this kind of stuff. I also wish I didn’t have to now go through my cabinet full of cosmetics to throw out all the stuff that contains squirrel sweat and ladybug feet. Being a woman is exhausting.

Before you start writing me hate mail about how "I am a home make-up presenter and I love it, and everybody I know loves it and you suck and I hate you, etc. etc. etc.," let me just save you the time by telling you that if you enjoy it. . . good for you. I don’t; and it’s my opinion. This was meant to be funny, and if you can’t see that past the 4,623 shades of lipstick you either buy or sell, then that just means you’re in way too deep to appreciate what I’ve said. Seek professional help-hate mail doesn’t work.