I was working as a newspaper reporter in Michigan and barely making enough to make ends meet, better yet pay down my student loans. A friend of mine knew someone doing quite well selling Mary Kay. So I drove an hour to Toledo to meet this woman and explore whether the opportunity would be a good fit for me, too.
Anxious to recruit me, “Vicky” took me to see her team leader, where I was given one of the most convincing pitches I’d ever been thrown. You see, Vicky’s team leader was a big mucky muck in Mary Kay. She wasn’t just any Mary Kay lady. She was the reigning queen of unit sales – crowned in front of a stadium of pink ladies from all over the country. Her unit had produced a record-breaking $2 million in wholesale volume. She’d won cars, diamond rings, mink coats and trips all over the world. She was a blonde bombshell in a pink suit, who lived in a showplace fit for Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.
Tired of the milk crate bookcases in my tiny rental apartment with the avocado carpeting and wallpaper from the Victorian era, I was only too eager to chuck my master’s, sign on the dotted line and begin building my own eye shadow empire.
When the queen told me how much it would cost to order my pink cases full of samples and enough product to get started, I knew I couldn’t afford it on a reporter’s salary. But she insisted that I could start with a very basic order and work my way up. If I sold something I didn’t have in stock, she would sell me anything I needed from her massive royal inventory.
So I ordered the Mary Kay hobo kit. And every time I needed something, I’d drive an hour to Ohio. I quickly realized I was spending more on gas than I was making on age-fighting moisturizer, so she and Vicky found me a Mary Kay lady in my area who could sell me what I needed. I was the Oliver Twist of Mary Kay ladies: “Please sir, can you spare some Meadow Grass eye color?”
Still, the road to Mary Kay fame was paved with levels of accomplishment that actually seemed achievable. All I needed was one or two active recruits to earn the title of “senior consultant” and start collecting a commission from my team sales. With just three active recruits I’d earn the right to don the company’s somewhat tacky but prestigious red blazer. With 10 or more active recruits, I’d be a sales director in qualification (DIQ). And if I could keep up my sales for a certain number of consecutive months, I’d not only earn the sales director title, but qualify for a car!
Twice a week I commuted to Toledo for sales training with the queen. If I was going to learn the art of the wrinkle cream sale, I wanted to learn from the best. So I attended her classes on what to say, how to say it, and how to get strangers to fork over their last dime for my brunette brow definer. I also attended weekly “rah, rah, sis boom bah” gatherings where reps drank the Kool-Aid and got all pumped up on TimeWise skin lifting serum and Garnet Frost lipstick.
Each week, rep after rep walked up to the microphone and announced she’d just qualified for her red jacket or a car. Cue the thunderous applause.
Wow, I thought. That’s going to be me! I walked out of every meeting so upbeat and empowered, I belted Broadway show tunes all the way back to Michigan.
Still, no matter how much training I received, or how much I tried to embrace the pink within, something never felt right. The queen suggested techniques like putting baskets in public places, where people could drop in their business cards and “win” a free “facial.” Nobody actually “won” anything. I was supposed to contact everyone who dropped in a card and pretend like each of them was the big winner. Their free “facial” was really just a sampling of my products.
Mary Kay’s lingo felt misleading. I’d had a real facial once at Elizabeth Arden. It included opening up my pores with steam, a lady in a white lab coat extracting blackheads, and a soothing face massage. I made a living seeking out the truth. Calling a moisturizer sample a facial felt like misrepresenting my services. I couldn’t do it.
I also hated that Mary Kay didn’t call the colored stuff you put on your face “makeup.” They called it “glamour.” After giving these free fake facials, I was supposed to say, “And now I’m going to apply your “glamour.” I felt like a little old lady from an era gone by … like at any minute, I might also start using words like “chippy” and “snollyguster.”
Most of all, I neglected to take into consideration how much I hate sales. I used to dread donning my Girl Scout beanie and knocking on doors to hit up neighbors for my overpriced Do-si-dos®. At least with Girl Scouts, people perceived they were supporting a noble organization. With Mary Kay, I was selling purely for my own gain … which made it much harder to get a pity sale.
I just hated the idea of approaching strangers. But once I cut strangers out of the equation, all that was left was hitting up my friends. And I hated that even more. I don’t care what you’re selling … makeup, vitamins, laundry detergent that doubles as a tub and tile cleanser … go into any type of network marketing business and watch your friends run from you like you’re bouncing a beaker of streptococci.
Fortunately, my friend Ann started selling Mary Kay at the same time and offered to co-sponsor a home party at her house. We each invited six people, pitching it as part of our training. So a dozen gals from community theater came over to let us practice our makeovers. We drank wine, ate snacks and bonded over mint green exfoliating masks. When it was over, Ann’s six bought pink bags full of products. I sold a $7 mascara. My $3.50 commission didn’t even cover the Ruffles and dip.
My second home party was with a bunch of my friends who worked at the newspaper. My dear friend Jo gathered some reporters, photographers and paste-up gals to support me in my newfound dream of becoming a cosmetics mogul.
Jo’s dining room was dimly lit, and matching skin tones to my foundation colors was tricky business. But I did my best and let each guest pick a day, evening or dramatic look from my “how to” glamour portfolio . And my inner “artiste” got to work making them red carpet ready.
I was so excited. My friends looked so awesome, they couldn’t resist buying my products! I drove home absolutely thrilled. My first real sales!
The next day, when I entered the newsroom, there was Jo, with her bright smile, waving from across the room. As I got closer, I could see that the rose-colored base I sold her made her face look like it froze in the middle of a hot flash.
Then Dee walked in, with eye make up so heavy against her porcelain skin and white hair, she looked like an albino raccoon.
One-by-one my colleagues poured into the office with skin the color of Oompa Loompas, coral-colored lipsticks that could only work on a slightly demented bag lady, and smoky eyes that made them look like victims of domestic violence.
I was mortified. How could I tell them they all looked horrible? Maybe they’d tell each other?
I’d talked up how fantastic they looked the night before. We all did. I was about to lose my street creds. Apparently, during my intensive training, the queen didn’t cover the importance of good lighting.
That day I packed up my kit and started my going out of business sale. I gave my friends refunds and let them buy whatever else they wanted at cost. It was abundantly clear that the cosmetic industry was not my calling.
No, I would never drive a pink Cadillac. I couldn’t sell enough product to cover a pair of fuzzy dice for the windshield. In fact, I was such a lousy salesman, I let some garage sale vulture talk me into walking off with my brand new $100 kit for five bucks.
Still, it was a sale.
And you know what?
I was tickled pink.
I’ve always enjoyed looking at all that pink. On someone else.
Maybe it’s best that I didn’t make it as a pink lady. The idea of looking dressed up and all made up every time I go out sounds exhausting. But once you create that image, you kind of have to keep it up!
I love this! I almost drank the Kool-Aid recently with Shaklee, vitamins and whatnot, after meeting with an uber successful saleslady. Who lives where? In a SUPER rich neighborhood. D’oh! I fell for the same crap right after high school with Cutco knives. Which reps always sold the most? The ones in SUPER rich neighborhoods. Duh!
I hate feeling like I’m tricking people into buying over-priced products. How do I know they’re overpriced? Because at least FOUR levels of sales people make money from the final sale. I just can’t do it. Nice to know we’re not alone. If I win the lottery I’ll buy you a pink Cadillac 😉 My husband actually BUYS tickets, only person I know, so there’s a good chance! hahaha
I do believe there are people who make decent livings in network marketing, but you really need to be a go getter. I just can’t hound people and stay after them to check out my website and brochures. I tried MLM again a couple of years ago, with Pre-Paid Legal. I thought maybe this time it would be different … that a great product would sell itself. I was wrong.
I would laugh but I drank the Pink Kool-Aid too. OK, I can laugh because you make it funny. Even though it was not funny at the time. Mary Kay ladies are some of the most vile predators in the MLM racket. Sounds like you escaped unscathed!
I always felt ridiculous walking around with those pink cases. That’s why I lasted less than a month! But I actually liked the products and thought they were reasonably priced compared to department store skin care products. So I did use them for several years. Unfortunately, I am a horrible salesperson. I get people all excited about my products, then feel guilty asking them to spend their money, so I talk them out of the sale. What’s the opposite of a closer?
I always thought Mary Kay was some kind of religious cult. To be honest, your story hasn’t dissuaded me from that opinion 😉
I have to admit, the cult part was fun. They really know how to pump you up. The problem was the next day, when the reality of how tough network marketing sales is crept back into the picture!
You should have sold personal massagers instead!
Kevin, you crack me up!
You actually did my make-up when I was 15 years old! I remember because I had my learner’s permit and drove my mom and me over. It was the first make-up my mom bought me. I was impressed 20 years ago 🙂
I made over you and Katie, right? I remember doing a “facial” and “glamour” with you and Katy and your moms. That was a fun day. That was the only other at home party I ever did. I really did like the products. I just sucked at the selling part!
Love this! I almost drank the Kool-aid with a few MMLs. So glad I ran the other way!
I actually think MML can work. It actually makes sense. I know a few people making 6 figures from selling pre-paid legal plans, so I broke down and tried MML again 2 years ago. But you have to rally be a good salesperson. That means not taking no for an answer. And I’m just not a pushy person.
Hi! I found your post from reading Pink Truth http://www.pinktruth.com. You might want to do some browsing over there about Mary Kay and other mlms. You’ll fit right in! You might also find that your story is so similar to the many of the thousands of women who have discovered the pink myth and now post at PT. It doesn’t matter how many years you’ve been out, you’ll still find some healing over there at PT. PLUS, you’re funny. We like funny! P.S. I miss Michigan too…
Thank you so much for your kind words. I will check it out. Right from the get-go, I found MK very funny. Maybe that’s why I was so bad at it. I would feel like an idiot offering someone a free “facial” and then showing them how to apply “glamour.” I can’t stop laughing at how ridiculous that sounds! I will check out PT. Thanks for telling me about it.
I knew it was a pyramid thing! Yeah I tried sales for 6 months…not a good fit to say the least. You are too nice for sales and I am well to mean.
Thats what scares me about self publishing … the sales part!
I loved this, Parri. I was an Avon lady for a week once. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t even like their products. Plus, selling involves talking to people and being social. I just don’t do that. 🙂
Even for us social people, sales just always made me feel like I was playing a role. I don’t like those slick people who keep trying to turn your “No thank yous” into yeses. It just feels snaky. I just can’t do it, even if I like what I’m selling.
I couldn’t sell ice to Eskimos. I hate asking anyone to buy anything. Loved this!
I get it. I’m what is known as an evangelist. If I love something, I tell the world about it … for nothing. But as soon as I’m the one with the goods, trying to get people to buy them just makes me feel like I’m being disingenuous somehow. … even if I like the product. I just feel guilty asking people to part with their hard-earned money!
Hilarious and… disturbing. 🙂
Knowing me, you must think this is especially hilarious. … Because the idea of wearing a red jacket and, later, a pink suit … and looking like a Stepford person, dressed just like my Stepford sisters, is so far BEYOND who I am that I can’t stop laughing as I think about it!
Thanks for exposing the Mary Kay tricks. And we had plastic milk crates too.
Oh, this was just the tip of the iceberg! My post was twice as long. I had to cut it down. But the moral of the story is: If it seems too good to be true, it probably is!
Multi-level marketing is a strange and disturbing business–it seems so enticing, until you’re actually doing it! Great post. 🙂
I tried AGAIN 20 years later, with Pre-Paid Legal. I made myself go to meetings several times a week to pump me up. I spent money to go to Vegas and Oklahoma for the big stadium events. This time, I even approached strangers and followed up numerous times with calls. This time I did everything right … and I still couldn’t sell anything or recruit anyone (that’s a whole OTHER blog, which I’ll write!) They make it look so easy, but it’s so hard. You really have to be a slick talker to make people part with their money, and I could never master that. The irony is I really do like Mary Kay products. If I think they’re a good buy with my own money, I don’t know why I was so shy to sell them to others. I think a person is just either born a salesman. Or not. I’m the “or not!”
We are definitely soul-sisters! You once again described me to a “T”, but for me it was 1994 and Amway! I hated any type of sales scenario, wasn’t even good with the GS cookies and I also hated talking to people, any people, especially those I didn’t know. But oh my how those seminars and events could make anyone think “I can do this!” So I was all gung-ho as I set up my little home-office, had all my sales books and spreadsheets ready to go; all my catalogs and success stories from people just like me who were making thousands of dollars. But then came time to actually talk about the products and I would freeze…absolutely couldn’t do it. My mother was great at it and suggested I, like her, specialize in selling just cosmetics and water treatments. So I sold a water treatment to my employer and some eyeliner to my best friend. Mom came to visit and we threw my first ever (and what turned out to be my only) make-up party! She brought her entire sample case and I shelled out cold cash for about 15 small mirrors (from Amway of course), sample brushes and cotton balls and we had a packed house of my friends and co-workers. My mother made them all look beautiful. I led our team in sales for the week from that one night and our “diamond” leader called personally to congratulate me on a great start on my road to jewel heaven. After a few months of keeping that group of friends in lipstick and pressed powder, the momentum died out and sales were down. One good friend continued ordering some dish detergent from me until I finally folded my tent and gave up the quest…alas my path was not to be paved in diamonds after all. I knew it before I started that I was no salesperson but I’ll never forget the hyped up messages from those seminars and conventions, the loud music and the ever-chanted “AWESOME!” that filled the arenas making me believe anything was possible. Even today I look back and wish I could have been more successful…even as I eye the Avon catalog someone now leaves in our break-room every now and then…nope, not for me!
At least you learned from your first experience! Twenty years later, I tried again with Pre-Paid Legal and Identity Theft plans. I am just not a salesperson. My husband has been in retail since he was 18 and is really, really good at it (he had his own boutique for 6 years here in Tampa). He says I know how to get people all excited about my products, but that I’m not a “closer.” When it comes time to pitch the sale, I just feel guilty asking them to spend their hard-earned money. So I actually talk them out of the sale. Yeah … wrong business for me. But like you, I loved the yay, rah rah part. Is there an organization where we can have that, but not sell anything?
Well, I guess Church comes the closest!
Hi Parri, this is PJ, Jo’s daughter. I remember that night. Thanks for the memory. What a great Laugh at the rest of the story (day after), can picture it.
Oh my gosh, PJ. I had no IDEA you read my blog. That was a fun night at your house! But the next day definitely solidified that I needed to stick with writing! Message me and tell me what you’re up to. I think of your mom and Dee all the time. Please know that … they’re spirits are still very much alive. I loved them both so much, and they were both so kind to me when I was alone in a new town with no friends and family. In fact, it was your mom who encouraged me to try out for community theater, which is how I ended up making most of my friends. And I will NEVER forget the night she shlepped me to The Barn to see Tom Wopat and he kissed her on the cheek. She was like a schoolgirl with a crush! Those were fun days at the newspaper. And I loved being greeted by Jo’s bright smile every day. I really miss her.
Though I never sold Avon or Mary Kay, I secretly ached for the tough reality my oldest was going to learn when she signed up to be an Avon rep. “Can you imagine the commissions I’m going to make, Mom, since I’m going to an all-women’s college? All the girls will want something!”
Uh, ya, took no time for that balloon to deflate.
I had a dorm-mate who sold that Jafra skin care system. But what poor college student can afford this stuff?
Too funny. I wouldn’t be able to do it either.
I am the worst salesperson EVER. I couldn’t sell water to people in the desert, dying of thirst!
Parri, I thought you were a very fine and funny make-up arteaste! I remember a party at your home. Quite a few of us from the newspaper, the downstairs gals, came to you to be beautified. We all had a great time and left with personal treasures. Make-up I mean…not the pictures off your walls or your silverware! I missed seeing Jo and Dee at the paper also. They were part of the newspaper that made it fun and interesting.
Take care & keep your stories coming!
Cheri (Accounting/Circulation–JCP)
Thanks for reading, Cheri! I hope you are well. I miss Michigan and all of my old friends. And I’m glad SOMEONE has a happy memory of my sad venture into the cosmetics industry! I appreciate your kind words!
Hahahaha! Hilarious! I was an Avon lady once and I can totally relate! I am not a make up..uhmm “glamour” girl so selling make-up was really hard.
I was also sucked in by one of the MK lady here in the office with her promises of free make over. What happened was a 5 minute “facial scrubbing” and over an hour of sales pitch. Never again. Pfft.
**I could see that the rose-colored base I sold her made her face look like it froze in the middle of a hot flash. **
Hilarious, Exquisite Writing! I loved every single detail about this cult called Mary Kay!!
Thank you so much for reading … and especially for the encouraging words!
Hi gal friends, did you know that there is s website devoted to women who got into serious debt through various MLMs/ direct sales/ or network marketing, but especially Mary Kay. I was one of those Mary Kay ladies & quit 2 years ago. Those type of businesses are designed to make money for the ones starting the businesses and those at the top of the pyramid scheme. The website is: pinktruth.com
I really enjoyed reading your article and can identify with what your wrote. For me, I was a great seller. My friends used to joke that I could sell sand to the Arabs. Seriously, I was good at selling, but I was only a so-so recruiter. The real money in companies like Mary Kay is in building a team that you get commission from.
Interesting perspective, Anna. Thanks for sharing! You know, I get multi-level marketing. I really do. I’ve met many people making good six-figure incomes from it. It’s just not me. You do have to be good at selling AND recruiting, and I couldn’t do either. I tried Pre-Paid Legal too, and if you can get people to the weekly meetings where the pros do the presentations and pitching, they’re sold. But I couldn’t even get people to come to the meetings. I also tried inviting over neighbors to my home to watch a presentation. I was shunned. LOL. Not for me!
There may be people who claim to make six figure incomes in MLMs, but what are their net profits after expenses? And how much did they invest to climb the ladder of “success?” When anyone is trying to entice you to join by making income claims, ask to see their Schedule C – if they refuse to show you, they’re hiding some very telling truth.
Another thing to think about: for those who are making money in MLMs, how many people in their downline are losing money as they are encouraged to “invest” in their business venture? I for one would never ethically be okay with making profits from the loss of so many.
I never got deep enough into Mary Kay to really understand who was making money and how. But I did do Pre-Paid Legal for a year and really tried with all my heart to do everything they said … and, yes, I lost money in the process. All this time, I thought it was ME … that I was just not a salesperson. I’m beginning to see that it is much more complicated than my assumption … that many of these MLM companies hide the reality behind the “successes.” PPL, for instance, neglects to tell you the “fine print” … that they’re payments are advanced commissions, based on someone keeping their legal plan for a year. Most people (especially the new recruits) drop their plans before the end of the year, and the consultant has to pay back their advance. This happened to me many, many times. Every time I “made money” I had to pay it back to the company. They deducted it from future sales.
Hi gal friend, I think your experiences mirror so many who try to make it in those MLMs or direct sales or networking. i was in 12 years, everyone talked about how much they were making. But when I went to new director training, I realized so many of us were already in debt.
I am the sales type and I sold like crazy, but their are so many hidden costs. My schedule C showed that I either made made a little or lost a little. Hardly worth the effort. People go into these businesses all starry eyed and hopeful. With Mary Kay, remember how the “truth is layered” to the new recruit. First, they tell ya just buy the starter kid and get your product for 50% for ever. After ya sign, then ya find out that ya gotta buy your store. Then ya find out that ya gotta order every 3 months to maintain your discount. I find this deceptive practices. I wonder why these business don’t have a better disclosure required.
This was such a good story! I too, never liked those home party where you feel so pressured to buy something. Glad you made the decision to quit and pursue other dreams! Your writing is so witty and entertaining! Great read!
My mother became a Mary Kay lady shortly after she and my father divorced and she moved to Florida. When I went to college, she would mail me product with instructions on how to apply it, then recommended I try it out on some of my friends. Cash strapped college students weren’t exactly a target market, and since I barely wore any make-up to start with, I wasn’t exactly a walking, glowing endorsement.
One of the girls I went to college with had a dorm party after she became a Jafra sales consultant. We all loved the products, but couldn’t afford them. You’re right .. not exactly the target market!
Fantastic!! I totally lost it when I read “How could I tell them they all looked horrible? Maybe they’d tell each other?” Bwahahahahahaha. I feel this is EXACTLY how it would have gone down if I had this gig. FOR SURE! Fantastic post!! –Lisa
Thank you so much, Lisa!
My aunt was a Mary Kay lady for awhile. My niece sells jewelry. My quiet niece who never said much of anything at family gatherings is making a nice living for herself selling jewelry at jewelry parties. Who would have thought? But me? She approached me to be a “team member”, because you know, that’s how it’s done, they recruit and recruit. I said no instantly because I suck at sales and I know it. I got fired from a phone soliciting job once because I couldn’t sell Reader’s Digests to senior citizens. I felt bad trying to siphon their disability checks away from them for magazines.
Once again … soul sistahs! I was unemployed and desperate about 10 or 11 years ago and answered a telephone sales ad. I did a one-week training program to sell those Life Alert systems (“Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”) As soon as the training was over, I lasted less than half a day. I was calling “leads” who had called and requested information in the past, but never signed up. I hated every second of it. Calling someone at home just makes me feel so apologetic. I HATED it! Plus, the people I was calling were so old, they didn’t remember calling. LOL! Quit that day.
I’m the daughter of two successful sales people, and I do not have a salesmanship bone in my body. It skipped me and went straight to my daughter. She’s a Girl Scout. I dread cookie season and she LOVES it. That girl can work some cookie sells.
It must be one of those qualities that skips a generation! And I always admire the Girl Scouts who are salespeople and actually sell their own cookies, instead of having their parents take the order forms to work!
One of my good friends is a Mary Kay sales rep and she does it well. She’s not pushy and she doesn’t feed me a load of crap when I ask something. She did try to get me into Mary Kay but backed off quickly when I let it be known it just wasn’t for me. I do buy product from her because it is good product but selling it is a big hell no for me.
That’s how I feel. Great product, but no interest in selling it!
Oh my hell…you nailed it perfectly! The phony feeling ‘rah-rah’ meetings,( felt like grumpy cat), the misrepresentation of register for ‘free facial’ in order to get phone numbers! It only took me 6 weeks of the meetings and lack of ‘sales’ for me to finally listen to that gnawing feeling in my gut that was telling me this was all wrong, wrong, wrong! I got out fairly unscathed with only a few product that I will use myself or give away. This was one time where I was grateful my credit sucked, otherwise I would have ‘invested’ in more inventory.
Thanks for the laugh and the added confirmation that I did the right thing for myself.
It sounds like you and me got out early and before we racked up the dead I keep reading about on Pink Truth! Thank God we trusted our inner voices. Glad I could make you laugh about it, though. If I didn’t laugh about some of these moments in my life, I would surely start crying and never stop!
I sell Avon now. Been about a year at it. I only started to get my nail polish cheaper! my customer base isn’t that large, it’s just enough that my purchases end up costing me less than WalMart prices, but a better quality (without leaving my house to shop). I don’t attend the KoolAid meetings & I’m not in it for big bucks, thus in my weirdness, I enjoy it! 🙂
My friend was a Mary Kay seller for a while, but it didn’t last long for her, she was so so at it, but i guess it just wasn’t what she thought it was going to be, and it became too time consuming for her, she had three kids too. But looking at that pink cadillac is always nice.