Why we love our Tupperware
Don't Mind the Mess
Posted 6 months ago
By Lori Penner
It was a look I came to recognize. My mother would answer the phone and I'd see all the colour drain from her face as she gave the caller a weak, "Okay, I'll do it." She'd hang up the phone and sigh and I knew she had caved in again. She had agreed to host another Tupperware party.
Growing up, all my aunts and cousins seemed to collect the stuff. Their cupboards and fridges were filled with the multi-coloured plastic, burp-able containers. And the best way to get them cheap or even for free was to host a party or pressure someone else to "take out a party." To say no to the request was considered just plain rude. After all, wouldn't they do the same thing for you if you asked? Wouldn't they do everything in their power to help you lock in the freshness?
I can't count the number of times our living room was filled with a circle of chatty women, nibbling on dainties and oohing and aahing over a new plastic cake carrier or mixing bowl. And if you were really lucky, you'd walk away with a door prize like an egg yolk separator or a plastic fridge magnet shaped like a strainer.
The whole idea of the home party was to give the post-war housewife a way to manage her domestic life yet still maintain some of the financial independence she had gained while the boys were busy fighting overseas. She could become a Tupperware consultant and actually earn a dandy little income if her sales were good and she knew how to nag her friends and family.
Other product lines followed, like Mary Kay and Pampered Chef, still using the direct sales approach in someone's crowded living room, with the hostess smiling and serving coffee, hoping sales were good so she could walk away with some free stuff.
The home party gave women a heady sense of freedom, being able to leave the hubby and kids at home for a few hours and purchase some serious timesaving products that no housewife should do without. Being at one of these parties recently made me keenly aware of just how much fun you can have when you throw a bunch of enthusiastic women together. Yet, there was a casualness about this get together I didn't remember from the parties my mother and aunts used to throw.
We did the same oohing and aahing our mothers and their mothers did before them as the consultants proudly displayed their wares. We played the same old ice breaking games for prizes, nibbled on crackers and cheese, and passed the products from person to person, acting utterly amazed and in awe at the marvels of modern technology, wondering how we could have thought our lives were complete without these things.
It was direct marketing at its best, where you could handle the product, pick the colour and style that best suited your individual needs and décor.
To say we didn't feel a pressure to purchase would be lying. We all felt a certain urgency - after all, we wanted to make our hostess happy. And in this case, the two consultants had done their job so well - none of us wanted to go home without these amazing products and their promises of satisfaction guaranteed. Did I spend too much? Probably. But at the end of the day, I can rest easy in the knowledge that I helped keep a timeless tradition alive.
