Mary Kay: The Next Jonestown?
I cannot take credit for what you are about to read. Nor can I really take credit for any of the other posts. Enjoy...
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The Bottom Line RUN ! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES !
The first thing you should know about Mary Kay is that it's a cult. They don't want to come right out and admit this, because cults got a bad name in the seventies, but Mary Kay is just as much a cult as Hale-Bopp, the Peoples Temple, the Church of Scientology, the Shriners, the McLaughlin Group, the Fingerhut Corporation, Pottery Barn, or Blue Cross/Blue Shield.
All the necessary cult elements are present: a messianic leader, a stable of devoted disciples, an evangelistic message, a wacky mode of transportation. Hale-Bopp had a spaceship. Mary Kay has a Pink Cadillac.
Mary Kay acolytes have put the moves on me several times in the past few months. The first time was at Starbucks, which, although certainly a cult itself, is the kind of place I assumed was a safe haven from petit bourgeois cosmetics hawkers. I assumed wrong. My first mistake was to linger a few seconds too long at the newspaper stand after I'd dairified my java. Lingering, to a Mary Kay consultant, is like blood in the water, and in an instant she was on me like a shark on a surfer.
"I couldn't help noticing how professional and well put-together you are," she gushed, her eyebrows perfect sideways apostrophes, her foundation thick but flawless. "Do you mind if I ask you what you do?"
My second mistake was not to pretend to be deaf. "I'm in the estate planning business," I said. This was clearly going to be a sales pitch, but from whom?
"And how do you like that? Do you see yourself doing that for your whole career?" Her face inched closer and closer to mine. "Yeah, I like it pretty well," mistake #3 spurted from my lips.
"Well I'm a chemical engineer, but I'm also a Mary Kay consultant, and I absolutely love it. It's a great opportunity to network with other professional women. Can I give you my card?"
"Sure," I said, my shoulders slumping, defeated. She asked my name. Mistake #4 was giving her my real first name and a fake last name -- unfortunately, the first last name that popped into my head, the rather uncommon last name of a man who works down the hall from me. Mistake #5 was giving her the main phone number of the company I work for. Great. Now the receptionist was going to be getting calls and thinking…what, that they were for this man's wife? That I was pretending to be married to him? That I was a big fat moron?
A month later, I was accosted in Mr. Pita, this time by an overweight middle-aged consultant. I dispatched her briskly and with aplomb.
A few weeks ago, in Walgreens shopping for lip gloss, I perceived a foreign object in my peripheral vision. Before I could whirl around, she had positioned her body between me and the door.
"I couldn't help noticing how professional and well put-together you are," she gushed, her eyebrows perfect sideways apostrophes, her foundation thick but flawless, all memory of me gone. "Do you mind if I ask you what you do?"
"I'm in the financial services business," I said. "And how do you like that? Do you see yourself doing that for your whole career?" Her face inched closer and closer to mine.
"Oh, I LOVE IT," I exclaimed. "I couldn't imagine doing anything else!"
"Well I'm a chemical engineer, and I absolutely love it, but I'm also a Mary Kay consultant, and I love that too! It's a great opportunity to network with other professional women. Can I ask you what your name is?"
"Lisa," I lied.
"Oh, two Lisa's!" she giggled, giving me her card. Imagine that...…her real name was the same as my fake name! This time I gave her a fake last name and my real home phone, which always goes to voicemail anyway. She also asked for my email address. I told her I didn't have one.
She hasn't called. But if she does, I sure as hell want to know what kind of chemical engineering gig allows her to shill for Mary Kay eight hours a day.
To summarize, here are a few tips to keep Mary Kay at bay:
1. Look slovenly or have leprosy.
2. Look really great from the back and the side, but show your facial scars, big buck teeth, and nasty boogers in front. This way, you will be able to exult triumphantly as you watch their faces dissolve in horror.
3. Appear to be extremely busy or rushed.
4. Wear a coonskin cap.
5. Show your plumber's crack.
6. Roll up your sleeves to reveal your needle tracks or open sores.
7. Employ a man to escort you in public.
8. If you can't find a man, round up at least three other women. Mary Kay consultants will usually not approach a group unless desperate or very, very hungry.
9. If a consultant succeeds in cornering you, try not to look like a deer in the headlights. Look like a possum instead.
10. Use intestinal gas to your advantage.
11. Tell the consultant that you LOVE what you do and wouldn't dream of changing careers, except to take up swine farming.
12. Carry some extra business cards -- someone else's business cards.
13. Give out Marriott's 1-800 number as your home phone number.
14. Explain to the consultant that you'd really like to stay and chat, but you have a nervous condition that makes you defecate in front of strangers.
15. If all else fails, have a grand mal seizure.
________________________________
The Bottom Line RUN ! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES !
The first thing you should know about Mary Kay is that it's a cult. They don't want to come right out and admit this, because cults got a bad name in the seventies, but Mary Kay is just as much a cult as Hale-Bopp, the Peoples Temple, the Church of Scientology, the Shriners, the McLaughlin Group, the Fingerhut Corporation, Pottery Barn, or Blue Cross/Blue Shield.
All the necessary cult elements are present: a messianic leader, a stable of devoted disciples, an evangelistic message, a wacky mode of transportation. Hale-Bopp had a spaceship. Mary Kay has a Pink Cadillac.
Mary Kay acolytes have put the moves on me several times in the past few months. The first time was at Starbucks, which, although certainly a cult itself, is the kind of place I assumed was a safe haven from petit bourgeois cosmetics hawkers. I assumed wrong. My first mistake was to linger a few seconds too long at the newspaper stand after I'd dairified my java. Lingering, to a Mary Kay consultant, is like blood in the water, and in an instant she was on me like a shark on a surfer.
"I couldn't help noticing how professional and well put-together you are," she gushed, her eyebrows perfect sideways apostrophes, her foundation thick but flawless. "Do you mind if I ask you what you do?"
My second mistake was not to pretend to be deaf. "I'm in the estate planning business," I said. This was clearly going to be a sales pitch, but from whom?
"And how do you like that? Do you see yourself doing that for your whole career?" Her face inched closer and closer to mine. "Yeah, I like it pretty well," mistake #3 spurted from my lips.
"Well I'm a chemical engineer, but I'm also a Mary Kay consultant, and I absolutely love it. It's a great opportunity to network with other professional women. Can I give you my card?"
"Sure," I said, my shoulders slumping, defeated. She asked my name. Mistake #4 was giving her my real first name and a fake last name -- unfortunately, the first last name that popped into my head, the rather uncommon last name of a man who works down the hall from me. Mistake #5 was giving her the main phone number of the company I work for. Great. Now the receptionist was going to be getting calls and thinking…what, that they were for this man's wife? That I was pretending to be married to him? That I was a big fat moron?
A month later, I was accosted in Mr. Pita, this time by an overweight middle-aged consultant. I dispatched her briskly and with aplomb.
A few weeks ago, in Walgreens shopping for lip gloss, I perceived a foreign object in my peripheral vision. Before I could whirl around, she had positioned her body between me and the door.
"I couldn't help noticing how professional and well put-together you are," she gushed, her eyebrows perfect sideways apostrophes, her foundation thick but flawless, all memory of me gone. "Do you mind if I ask you what you do?"
"I'm in the financial services business," I said. "And how do you like that? Do you see yourself doing that for your whole career?" Her face inched closer and closer to mine.
"Oh, I LOVE IT," I exclaimed. "I couldn't imagine doing anything else!"
"Well I'm a chemical engineer, and I absolutely love it, but I'm also a Mary Kay consultant, and I love that too! It's a great opportunity to network with other professional women. Can I ask you what your name is?"
"Lisa," I lied.
"Oh, two Lisa's!" she giggled, giving me her card. Imagine that...…her real name was the same as my fake name! This time I gave her a fake last name and my real home phone, which always goes to voicemail anyway. She also asked for my email address. I told her I didn't have one.
She hasn't called. But if she does, I sure as hell want to know what kind of chemical engineering gig allows her to shill for Mary Kay eight hours a day.
To summarize, here are a few tips to keep Mary Kay at bay:
1. Look slovenly or have leprosy.
2. Look really great from the back and the side, but show your facial scars, big buck teeth, and nasty boogers in front. This way, you will be able to exult triumphantly as you watch their faces dissolve in horror.
3. Appear to be extremely busy or rushed.
4. Wear a coonskin cap.
5. Show your plumber's crack.
6. Roll up your sleeves to reveal your needle tracks or open sores.
7. Employ a man to escort you in public.
8. If you can't find a man, round up at least three other women. Mary Kay consultants will usually not approach a group unless desperate or very, very hungry.
9. If a consultant succeeds in cornering you, try not to look like a deer in the headlights. Look like a possum instead.
10. Use intestinal gas to your advantage.
11. Tell the consultant that you LOVE what you do and wouldn't dream of changing careers, except to take up swine farming.
12. Carry some extra business cards -- someone else's business cards.
13. Give out Marriott's 1-800 number as your home phone number.
14. Explain to the consultant that you'd really like to stay and chat, but you have a nervous condition that makes you defecate in front of strangers.
15. If all else fails, have a grand mal seizure.
posted by EauDeJane @ 4:48 PM
5 Comments:
At 7:17 PM,
LorettaDN said…
I have been reading a lot of negative stuff about Mary Kay and it has put a lot on my mind. I am a consultant and I plan to become a Mary Kay millionaire some day. All I know is that I was pledging in college and we had to draw greek letters on our cheeks for a month. When I took the symbols off I had this dry irritated patch on my skin. Plus being black in Iowa during the winter my wrists looked like alligator skins, my lips were chapped, and I always had rusty knees and elbows. Some Almay product worked on my whiteheads for a while but not Neutrogena nor any other product helped not even visits to the dermatologist. Only the Mary Kay products have helped me and I thank God for them. It helped save my self esteem in a town where there were no places that I could get my hair done or anything and no one understood my particular health and beauty needs and the occasional n-word would just happen to fly out of someone's mouth as they passed by in a Ford truck. Do you ever think about the people who are actually helped by the products and the business?
At 10:41 AM,
EauDeJane said…
Thanks for posting!
When you become a millionaire, please visit again.
At 3:10 PM,
EauDeJane said…
Great, glad you were recruited. Makes the real world a little bit more spacious.
At 11:39 AM,
Christy Brewer said…
Less than 1% of women in MLMs actually make money. That means 99% lose money. These numbers were generated by the IRS. So, if 99% of Mary Kay consultants are losing money, how can they be making $50,000 a year? What? Oh, that's their _commission_ check total?? What about expenses?
At 8:51 AM,
EauDeJane said…
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
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