You
can run but you can't hide. There's a party invitation waiting for you in the
mailbox. But it's not for just any old party. This is a hideous mutant of a
party. At this party you will sit through a presentation about potato peelers
or candle snuffers or basket weaving. And then you must buy something or
everyone will talk.
Attending these excuses for legalized
extortion is part and parcel of modern suburban motherhood. There is no escape
if you want to have any form of a social life, and more importantly, nurture
the support network you need. So if you buy a lipstick at some mother's Mary
Kay party today, you know you can call on that mother to take your kid home
from school the day you're laid up with the flu. It's a multi-layered structure
of giving and receiving favors more complicated and nuanced than the Mafia's.
Overpriced candles, absurdly ornate
scrapbooks, needless kitchenware: I've been to ‘em all. I've been in a room
with fourteen other women, all dressed in our special "afternoon away from the
kids" outfits, and listened to candle experts tell me more about candles than
anyone has a right to know. Did you know that if you cut the wick the candle
will burn more evenly? And after burning a cylindrical candle you should gently
reshape it so it doesn't sag? Well, now I know and so do you. And we're richer
for it.
Back in the colonial days women would
get together and make a quilt. That was the way they socialized and contributed
to the household economy at the same time. Now we sit around comparing
knock-off handbags. Yeah, we've come a long way, baby.
I guess some of the stuff is useful,
sort of. But some is so over the top it's absurd. How about those baskets ...
what are they called? Sturm und Drang or Hockaluggie or Ich bin ein Berliner? I
forget. But what in the name of all that is sacred can make a freakin' basket
cost 75.00? They look exactly the same as the baskets you can pick up at a yard
sale for a buck.
Maybe we should brainstorm up some new
ideas for house parties. Let's use the current method for success. Take a
completely ordinary household item, like a candle, and build an entire industry
around it. Create a need for hundreds of related accessories that didn't exist
before, and voila! Instant cottage industry.
Let's see ... how about ... a nail
file? That's it! We'll start a home party franchise business called "I Want To
Nail You" which creates a demand for monogrammed, gemstone-encrusted files you
can bring with you anywhere. You really must have the cowhide caddy to carry it
in, and the special mineral oil to keep it in good repair. And don't forget the
roller brush that whisks away the powdery fingernail residue from your black
cocktail dress, thereby saving you from certain social death.
How about those tacky plastic
push-pins you've been suffering with all these years? No more! Give a "Stick
It!" party and learn about the wonderful world of custom devices designed to
enhance your paper-adhering-to-bulletin-board lifestyle. No? Then how about a
"Shove It!" party, in which that old, dirty plastic tube from the bank's
drive-in lane is replaced with custom tubes you can create yourself and make as
unique hostess gifts.
"Suck It!" parties can hawk designer
vacuum cleaner bags, "Take Me Out Back And Beat Me Senseless" parties sell
fancy egg beaters and whisks, and "Cover Your Ass" parties hawk all kinds of
adorable, must-have diaper covers.
Well, anything beats another
overpriced Britzkreig Basket.
Related Articles
|
Quirkee Voices 
(0 vote)
