It all started when my friend “won” a free Mary Kay pampering party through David’s Bridal. I accepted the invitation without hesitation, figuring it would be fun to enjoy a free mini-makeover with friends.
Wrong.
Our Mary Kay consultant’s name was Maci. She was 25 years old, smiled a lot, and wore a full face of thick, glimmery makeup. She stood in my friend’s living room and launched straight into a marketing pitch about how Mary Kay is the ultimate female empowerment opportunity. You can make a six-figure income just by making friends and having fun! You can be your own boss! You can set your own hours! You can help other women and really make a difference!
I am very sensitive to pyramid scheme language, because it stole my boyfriend away from me in high school. He was just a normal, down-to-earth dude until an older co-worker started taking him to Amway meetings, at which point he transformed into a tiresome droid with big, green dollar signs where his head and heart used to be. He lost money, and I lost him; that kind of brainwashing really changes people.
Ever since, I’ve have PTPSD—post-traumatic pyramid scheme disorder. Just hearing the phrase “six-figure income” gives me a dull ache in my heart. Also: gas.
“You can even earn a free car!” Maci squealed, pulling me out of my flashbacks. She was holding up a large poster with pictures of six different cars. The infamous pink Cadillac was featured front and center—an atrocious Barbie fantasy you could not pay me to drive. “Now let’s go around, and each of you tell me which one you would choose!”
I felt knots tighten in my stomach as the first woman pointed to the BMW.
There’s an overpowering social pressure that we, as women, feel to be polite. We frequently stifle our thoughts and feelings to avoid causing a stir or making situations awkward. Mary Kay and other “multi-level marketing” schemes that target women know this, and they exploit the hell out of it.
So when the question came around to me, of course I didn’t say what I was really thinking (“This is tacky as hell and I want no part of it”) and instead found myself saying, “Um, maybe the Chevy?”
Next, she made us go around and say what we would do with an extra $600 each month.
It was like being a kid again, the way we were expected to grab at prizes being dangled over our heads. When I was seven, my mom gave me a Barbie sticker every time I didn’t wet the bed. When I racked up ten stickers, I got to go to the pet store and watch the fish. (That was way more fun than this.)
Next came the exfoliation and makeup demonstration, which seemed like somewhat of an afterthought. Maci gave vague instructions on how to apply each product as she continued to spout off benefits of the Mary Kay life and make semi-sexist comments like, “Every girl loves a good deal!”
“Now let’s go around again,” she said once our faces were all pink and polished. “And tell me what impresses you most about this business.”
Resentment burned on my cheeks beneath my blush. What I wanted to say was this: “I’m impressed that anyone older than twelve could be gullible enough to fall for this bullshit. I’m impressed that an organization that claims to be Christian is so unapologetically materialistic. I’m impressed that people like you were so easily able to lure away the first boy I ever loved.”
But being a lady means saying none of these things. “I don’t know,” I sighed when it was my turn. “I guess it’s cool that you guys get cars.” Maci’s face lit up as tiny pink Cadillacs danced in her eyes; it was exactly what she wanted to hear.
“Let’s end with a game!” she clapped. She gave us each a piece of paper, asked us to number it 1-15, and told us to get our phones. “Now write down the names and numbers of fifteen of your friends who I can talk to about these great products!” The prize for whorring out our friends’ private information? A one-time use lipstick sample.
How amazing would it have been, right then, if we’d collectively revolted? If one of us had boldly stood up and said, “I’m sorry, but this is fucked up,” as the rest of us applauded in unity?
Mary Kay knows that women won’t do that.
As I looked around at the others nervously scrolling through their phones, I realized I had no choice; I filled my paper with fifteen fake names and numbers. Then I collected my one-time use lipstick sample, and promptly lost it between two couch cushions.
Before she left, Maci insisted on having a one-on-one consultation with each of us. I went last, watching on as all the polite women got talked into overpriced exfoliation packages they would later say they regretted. (“It’s not a good idea to buy just one product,” Maci explained, “Because we can’t guarantee that the chemicals will mix well with other brands.”)
“Which package appeals to you most?” she asked when my moment was upon me, presenting me with a list ranging in price from $100 – $450.
“I have to pass,” I said. “I’m trying to save money.”
She nodded. “I’d be happy to set you up with a payment plan.”
I had to stifle laughter as I declined. Payment plans are for cars—not facial creams.
“When can we schedule your follow-up?” she asked, not missing a beat as she smiled at me hopefully from across her open appointment book.
It was then that I realized exactly how well-trained she was. It was so subtle and skillful, the way she skipped right over “Do you want to?” and went straight for “When can we?” Even on a linguistic level, it was difficult to escape her traps.
I told her I had a lot going on, but that if my schedule opened up in the future I’d give her a call. (Later I would regret this—why did I feel inclined to lie about possible future interest to save her from feeling embarrassed?)
“Maybe we could schedule your own party,” she suggested as I started to walk away. “I noticed you wrote down a lot of numbers.”
It was the first time I felt kind of bad. Even though Maci was a predator, she was also, of course, the biggest victim in the room.
Later that night, I discovered Pink Truth—a web site where former MK consultants have confirmed everything I suspected. Consultants have to buy all the products they sell and are often encouraged to start out by going thousands of dollars into debt on a Mary Kay credit card. If they don’t meet certain sales expectations, they are pressured to compensate by purchasing more products themselves. As much as 99% of consultants lose money. And the cars are not gifts at all—unless you keep recruiting new women and selling more products at a rate that is virtually impossible, you have to make payments. If you leave the company, you lose your car.
Two days later, I received a postcard from Maci that was every bit as cheesy and alienating as the party itself. A border of lipstick kisses surrounded three typed sentences of gratitude, ending with the line “One of my favorite parts of doing this is getting to add new friends to my life.”
As I ran my finger along the lipstick kisses, I thought about six figure incomes, being your own boss, and new cars. I thought about how even if it were all true—even if being a Mary Kay lady really did deliver everything it promised—it would never be worth it.
I don’t even want to imagine a life where I view everybody I meet in terms of how much money I can wring out of them, where I brainwash people with fantastical language that estranges them from those who love them, and where I earn my living by exploiting the entire spectrum of vulnerable women—from those who are struggling financially, to those who long for an escape from unsatisfying day jobs, to those who are simply too nice to say no ten times in a row to overpriced hand lotion. Especially under the guise of “friendship” or “female empowerment.”
Because female empowerment has nothing to do with buying, selling, or wearing products.
It has everything to do with saying no—repeatedly, if we have to—to the people who try to take advantage of us.
PTPSD – love it – this is the perfect outing of what a fakery this whole home-sale business is. We’ve gotten caught in the same kind of crap, always with good friends who told us how wonderful their products were, and then confided about how they were hoping to retire on their own private island in a year, if only we would do our part. We didn’t “do out part” and didn’t see them for a few years until they got realistic about what a phony the whole campaign was.
I’ve been invited to a kids’ performance to find out it was a front to convince me to purchase crap I didn’t want. And when I did buy a diet regime from a friend, only to find out it didn’t live up to expectations, she ended the friendship when I said I wouldn’t continue – and I only meant the purchase program because I was willing to remain friends.
Too bad those who let themselves get suckered don’t just bite it and accept that true relationships are built on real value, not on lipstick or vitamins or candles we can buy – should we really want them – at Target – for less. You’ve identified Maci as the biggest victim of her own sham, but she has yet to see if for herself.
And I find disgusting any religion that aligns itself with selling a product and parades itself as promoting empowerment, because going into debt is not empowering – it’s enslaving. The only legitimate business of a religion – outside of putting members in the pews – is selling prayer books, and even that is suspicious. Don’t they get it? God is free.
Thank you for posting this, Julia. You may have saved a whole lot of women from buying a three-wheeled wagon painted to look like a pink Cadillac.
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Thanks for your reply! Those are some pretty sickening situations your friends have put you in, and totally ridiculous that they would value the business more than your friendship. I’ve read that, inside these pyramid schemes, people are told that anyone they know who questions the business is “negative.” It’s incredible how easily people can be brainwashed.
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The people who create these schemes are pretty savvy. They wouldn’t be so successful if it were easier to see the tin scaffolding. All of them are just Oz behind the green screen.
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Well written (as usual!). And it caused me to reflect on our own ‘run-in’ with Amway. We were 27 yrs old and living on the Chesapeake bay. A fraternity brother called up one day and invited us over ‘for a drink’. Our home was a bit isolated so it sounded like a good outing (2 hr drive up the beltway to DC and to Dulles area.
We were late as their had been a blue crab run on the beach so I was busy collecting a meal. As we walked down into his basement, I was gleefully explaining with apologies and as I turned the corner a room full of strangers met me. Needless to say, I felt a bit awkward – but not the host! Sat through an hour of crap….
As an aside, though Peggy got her revenge…. when the bozo started around the room asking folks if they had a favorite product and which one was it, Peggy said “the detergent, because my Dad’s company has made a lot of money off of you making the boxes you sell it in”….
Still wonder why we never got asked back 🙂
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Haha, go Peggy! That’s an awesome reply 🙂
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Gosh.. What a horrible experience. I once had an acquaintance who wanted me to let her come to my house and sell my mom pots and pans (no doubt as part of some pyramid scheme). I was too scared to say no, so I ignored her Facebook message and she hasn’t spoken to me since. Whoops!
I agree that it’s completely ridiculous that we go out of our way to save other people embarrassment, even when their requests are blatantly making us uncomfortable.
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Haha, such an awkward request! You made a good call 🙂
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Did I ever tell you that soon after we were married, I fell for the Mary Kay pitch and bought an entire skin care system. I was sick about it. Steve returned it the next day because I didn’t want to face the woman again!
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Haha, I didn’t know this!
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I dunno. Learning how to say ‘no’ clearly and firmly without embarrassment is a valuable life skill that most people never pick-up. If Mary Kay is giving free clinics to practice it, I think you ought to take advantage of it.
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What kind of system is this?! I am not going to say this is anti-feminist or not, but this is just wrong on so many levels
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Maybe it would just be easier to politely decline…”Thank you for thinking of me, but I just am not interested.” Would be better for your friend, the consultant and yourself. I am a MK Consultant and I’m never offended if someone politely declines. I would rather someone be honest, so that I can move on and they do not have a bad experience. I never want to bug anyone with phone calls, emails, or sales pressure.
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So many bitter women who don’t have the facts about Mary Kay. These consultants are just trying to make a living and people think it’s ok to give take names, numbers and email. Why not just P
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Politely decline and go on with your day. Do you work a 9 to 5? Then who’s at the top of your pyramid? MK is a means of income for some families and I tore of people who have no idea what they are talking about ridiculing people for it. Flame me if you want, I wont be back to this stupid website. Have fun, I’m sure the bitter people will.
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I’m pretty sure Julia was not talking about how someone is making a living. Rather the approach that is taken – ponzi like scheme that depends on “last person in ” to make money for “first person on”.
In any case , hard to answer folks that remain ANONYMOUS
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The “bitter people” on the “stupid website”? Who sounds bitter? Just realize that to make money, in any business, you have to get it from someone else. The most ethical businesses have happy parties on BOTH ends of the sale. MLM typically doesn’t leave happy people at the bottom of the totem pole, and high pressure “lock in” recruiting and sales are no way to make people happy.
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You women are hysterical!! You have no idea what Mary Kay is about. I feel sorry for all of you. 6 figure income, 10 free cars and financial freedom is what Mary Kay offered me, I worked hard and I am living my dream life!
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Well, we know what it’s about for you.
Sadly pyramid schemes do give 1 person something to talk about while the other 99 are left with empty pockets.
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I agree. I feel the consultant was not properly trained… Sorry she had to have this experience… I agree, a 9 to 5 job is the biggest pyramid. They have far too much control over what you do what you S A Y… I was fired for saying 2 words, not even bad words, but 2 words… They said yep gotta let you go!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Seriously? Don’t want myself in that position again. Ever.
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Wow!!! I appreciate your honesty and being so transparent! I am a Mary Kay representative. I absolutely LOVE what I do! I love empowering and helping women feel good about themselves with the understanding that every women may not need it…maybe not from me anyway and that’s ok! Hopefully, my story…what I’ve gone through and what I have to offer will alter someone’s life for the better during my presentations. I read stories like yours with the question….how can I be the game changer? Mary Kay is an awesome opportunity with amazing products. I want everyone to experience the same thing I’m experiencing….the same joy and excitement. I believe in being authentic in all I do! I’m not one to be money driven but purpose driven. My take away from your story (although you have your own back story that had you in a certain place in your mind…feelings….outlook) is to understand that everyone has a back story…. and that sensitivity goes a long way!
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All your frustration is around that you lost your boyfriend…boo hoo boo hoo😭😭. Buy a GPS and get lose too.
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You’re a good writer, very amusing. I found this while searching on a related topic. The story telling is great, I burst out laughing at the “I noticed you wrote down a lot of numbers.”
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