obligation

When I began reading Lori Penner’s piece “Why We love Our Tupperware” that appeared in a Canadian publication today, I could feel the Letter to the Editor forming in my head. “The patronizing stereotypes reinforced in this piece do not do justice to the millions of women and their satisfied customers who enjoy direct selling,” I would say.

To my surprise and delight, though, Lori’s description of her mother’s home parties as shallow and uncomfortable took an unexpected turn when she said: “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.”

Like Lori, many women certainly have childhood memories of clanking tea cups and polite conversation in their own living room. I remember the tiny lipstick samples a fragrant perfume vials my mother’s friend would leave for me each time she visited. These memories certainly form the basis for the particular feelings evoked in each of us, now as adults, when we imagine those same parties and demonstrations in the first person instead of as the small child sneaking hors d’oeuvres from the table.

If your last experience with direct selling didn’t have you in the starring role, perhaps it’s time to update your memory bank with an experience in your own living room – or that of the next friend who sends an invite your way.

Lori sums up her first-person experience this way: “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,” she states.

But in the end, Lori happily purchased several items – “the two consultants had done their job so well – none of us wanted to go home without these amazing products,” she continued.

I’m glad Lori was able to write her own ending – how about you? 

I came across an interesting blog post today from a freelance writer who has covered direct selling in the past. I respect her because she always asks really great questions when she interviews me and does a fair and equitable job of laying out the facts. While I hesitated momentarily on linking to this post because it focuses on a specific product from a specific company, the point is really one that’s much larger – it has to do with price and value.

Reporters often ask me questions about how the price and quality of direct selling products compare with that of their in-store counterparts. I haven’t done any research to assess price or quality of direct selling products, so there will be no dollar figure or performance assessments here.

But what intrigues me about Leah’s post is her description of how the kitchen shears she bought ended up being such a useful tool for her that she bought another pair to have around the house. Were the kitchen shears so special that every household in America should have a set? Probably not – but they worked for Leah. Could she have picked up a comparable set of scissors at Target for less? Maybe, but they may not have cut the same way, or been as versatile as Leah found her favorite set to be. The point is, those scissors have value for her and that’s all that matters.

She also mentions that she left the direct selling party she attended with some other gadgets that she hasn’t really used yet. She saw them demonstrated and had to have them. Trust me – I know the feeling. I have plenty of items in my closet that I might have seen demonstrated in the store or featured at a direct selling party. I don’t regret having purchased them, I just don’t use them as much as I’d like to – witness with proverbial treadmill or gym membership.

But back to the discussion of value and quality. I can buy a $3 lipstick through direct selling – I can also buy a $50 lipstick through direct selling. I can do the same in a retail store. I can be disappointed with the quality of a product I bought in a store – or be amazed by it. The same is true for direct selling products. In any shopping environment, there is never a substitute for the consumer’s ability to evaluate a product and make a purchase decision. I don’t care if you are in a busy mall or your best friend’s living room, the assessment of value remains with each individual consumer. What has value to me, may be outrageous to you – and that’s the beauty of having choices.

However, neither price nor quality even touches on what really differentiates direct selling from a traditional retail store – often, the extra value for direct selling products and services comes in the form of the demonstration and personal service.

It’s true, demonstration of a product, whether in a store or someone’s home, probably sways a lot of people to buy a things they wouldn’t have purchased if that same product was just sitting on a shelf with only its packaging to speak for it – why do you think grocery stores set up sample stations on Saturday afternoons? It’s not to give patrons a free snack – it’s so you’ll be exposed to something you otherwise wouldn’t have noticed and buy it!

So, the next time you are invited to a direct selling party or demonstration, look at it as the opportunity to be exposed to new products and ideas that you otherwise might not have noticed. Don’t feel compelled to fall in love with anything – but don’t sell the experience short, either. You never know when you might find the perfect pair of kitchen shears.

I like Miss Manners because she is straight and to the point about a lot of topics people spend a lot of time stewing about. I don’t always agree with her ultimate nugget of wisdom, but rarely can I fault her direct approach.

In her column today (scroll down to the second question/answer) she responds to a reader who wishes to decline an invitation for a home party. I applaud Miss Manners for asserting that one can feel free to say “I’m not interested,” and decline the invitation – it really is just that simple. No need to make up excuses – just decline.

However, Miss Manners (and the inquirer) errs when she assumes the hostess is only extending the invitation because she wants the friend’s business. In this case, the hostess and invitee were not close acquaintances – I say having a casual get-together at one’s home is an excellent opportunity to make an invitation to someone with whom you may not have the occasion to arrange an exclusive afternoon. There is no harm in inviting distant acquaintances to such a gathering – in fact it might be just the chance to further solidify the relationship based on shared interests. The opportunity to peruse and purchase products is only an added feature to what is otherwise a chance to catch up with old friends and make new ones.

If Miss Manners truly believed the earlier advice she had given about not feeling obligated to purchase anything, she would have counseled today’s inquirer to evaluate the invitation based on interest in socializing with the other attendees. Based on that, the inquirer would have had no trouble enjoying her afternoon and feeling guilt-free about walking away empty-handed (or staying at home alone).

I find shopping with friends to be quite enjoyable – no matter the venue. When I go to the mall with a friend I do not feel obligated to purchase anything. Likewise, I would not feel obligated to purchase anything at a home party. The problem in both cases is I usually find several things I just can’t live without.

Miss Manners, in the future, please consider that for some, shopping and socializing go hand in hand. Continue with your advice to be upfront and honest, but please don’t assume invitations to home parties are anything other than an open door.