Disclaimer: I am not a Tupperware consultant, have never been one, and will never be one. I have not hosted Tupperware parties, nor do I wish to host them. I do, however, own and use Tupperware products. Yet I am not trying to sell you on anything, unless it's an idea.
I went to a friend-of-a-friend's on Saturday evening for a Tupperware presentation. Each one in attendance received a thank-you gift from the consultant. This is a picture of my loot, minus the purple orange-peeler.
To receive an invitation to a Tupperware party is a coming-of-age, a rite of passage for a female, an initiation ceremony delineating adulthood from late adolescence. It signifies that one is ready to assume responsibility for one's own "womanly realm," i.e., the kitchen and pantry. So it's always seemed to me. Perhaps because my first close encounter with Tupperware was a cousin's bridal shower.
I'm of two minds about Tupperware: on the one hand, I'm drawn to the ever-changing colors, shapes, and textures, which come together in practical designs. I like to attend the occasional event to see what's new. I admire what I imagine to be its subversive beginnings as a legitimate excuse for housewives of the past to escape from their predictably dreary existences for a few hours to enjoy the company of other women, i.e., to gossip and eat dessert. And it still facilitates socializing if one is new to a community, like yours truly. On the other hand, I can't help but feel that it's just another example of rampant consumerism, some company convincing me that its products are indispensable, molding me for its own profitable ends. There are moments when I can't help but thinking like Stacey MacAindra, the protagonist of Margaret Laurence's The Fire-Dwellers, as she sits through a Polyglam Superware presentation at her neighbor's:
--If I get out of here for less than ten bucks it will be a bloody miracle. Two weeks ago it was copper-bottomed stoveware at Bertha's, and I bought a Dutch oven, which I need slightly less than I need a Dutch uncle. I'm weak-minded, that's my trouble. Anything to look agreeable. (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1969, p. 82)
Because the long and the short of it is that no matter how much anyone reassures me that there's no obligation to buy, I know that the hostess gift is calculated on a percentage of the total sales of that party.
All I want is a replacement for my old pie container - the kind that's wedge-shaped, sized just right for a nice piece of apple pie, with Jenn's PERFECT crust. Oh dear, I wonder how much it'll cost for me to get her to make one for me...
ReplyDeleteYeah, the "no obligation to buy" sales pitch. I like Tupperware but find Rubbermaid or Glad products work just as well (for a lot less). I hear the latest "chic" parties to replace Tupperware are taser gun parties! What woman doesn't need a taser?
ReplyDeleteHey, I have an orange wedge-shaped Tupperware container. One of the hinges is broken though. I hear you on the "no obligation" thing - I went to a Weekender party once where there was only one other attendee so of course I had to order something. When I came to my senses and realized I didn't want a shapeless $50 t-shirt, I phoned the consultant and cancelled my order. ouch.
ReplyDeleteI find my Rubbermaid lids all crack after a while, so I do prefer Tupperware. Of course you can buy 10 Rubbermaids for one Tupperware, so....
I don't own any tupperware. i don't think....but I do love it! Anyone remember Shape -O's??? One of my favourite toys!! I used to stack all the shapes on top of one another with the star at the top. It was Barbie's Christmas tree.
ReplyDeleteI don't have to do anything to get Tupperware, the cupboard just seems to collect more and more of them.
ReplyDeleteDan, if Ellen doesn't give up her orange wedge-shaped container, you can find vintage Tupperware pie slice holders on eBay. Apple pie sounds delicious; you'll have to post a photo of Jenn's masterpiece so we can live vicariously.
ReplyDeletePat, really, tasers?! I hadn't heard about those. Wonder what the thank-you gifts would be. I'd be interested in a Tomboy Tools party, although I've only ever used a screwdriver & lightweight hammer. I like Rubbermaid, too.
Ellen, I bought a Weekenders navy-striped, long t once. It was billed as "cruise wear." I had visions of me on the deck of the Love Boat (this was pre-Titanic days). It never saw the light of day--I used it as a nightshirt. Durable, yes; wise investment, no.
Siobhan, they still sell Shape-O-Toys. We had one, too. Great fun! The round shape actually fit into the octagonal hole (or was it the pentagonal?) if we exerted enough pressure.
James, dear, it's magic.