Getting Tight with Cookie

I have to come clean and admit to a long held prejudice. Regardless of what I may have ever said to the contrary, I have to admit that I looked down upon and had a distaste for the home based retail industry as a whole. I am a complete retail snob. If someone was selling Avon, Mary Kay, Pampered Chef, Tastefully Simple, et al, I immediately assumed an inferiority of product. For unknown reasons, I strongly held the belief that if someone came to your home to demonstrate and sell a product, the quality of the product was on par with dime store junk you use to fill take-home goodie bags at little girls' birthday parties. Regardless of the cost. Because if they couldn't get it into Nordstrom's (or at least Macy's), there was "a reason". And I wondered as to the discernment of any person who engaged in this kind of career.

I imagine I can blame my mother for this. I remember the Avon lady coming to the house when we were kids and my mom buying lipsticks and perfumes and the like but once the Avon lady left, my sisters and I would get most of it to play with. When I asked her why she didn't keep it she said something about it not really being for grownups or something. I used to love getting the hot rose pink lipsticks though - and the samples. And the perfumes in fancy looking bottles with french sounding names.

As an adult, I have hosted home parties for my friends who, sadly (I believed), invested their time and money into such "retail pyramid scams", and I would buy a couple of products from them that I invariably never used. But I walked away from the experience feeling puffed up for having been so supportive. Oh, aren't I such a good and benevolent person?

Yes, I was a horrible "home show" snob and once again, shame on me. I was also an idiot.

So here, if you care to overlook my shallowness and read on, is my story of a new found friend. Her name is Cookie.

Two years ago, when I lost my job at Disney, one of the moms from Grace's school approached me at the "drop off" and mentioned that she had heard I was unemployed. She suggested that I consider a business that helped her out at a difficult time and has since been a good source of income for her. The product was Cookie Lee jewelry. I was familiar with Cookie Lee. I knew people who sold it. I attended a couple of parties and held my nose as I bought a couple of pieces that I immediately threw into the junk drawer. Yes, of course I would consider selling Cookie Lee. Just as soon as pigs could fly.

I begged off politely and moved on. But Janet was persistent. She had me hold a couple of parties for her. I carefully invited friends whom I thought would be agreeable to such an experience. They came, they ate, they laughed. Aaaaaaand they bought! (But then again, they were doing me a favor, right?) But I started to wear down. After all, I was on a mission to pay off the rest of the debt that we have spent the last year getting out of and, over time, Cookie Lee seemed like it might be a way to go. Janet made money from it. I could do it in my own time, and once my debt was paid off, I could get out of Cookie Lee altogether. SO - after two years of nudging, I attended a Cookie Lee convention in Anaheim in early January.

Ahem.

Amid a thousand screaming Cookie Lee fanatics (all consultants) wearing so much bling it was blinding, I found myself (with my tasteful post earrings and single strand necklace) watching it all in a sedate, respectable manner that made me feel like the the lone pinto in a plate full of jumping beans. I wondered, as I sat there with my complimentary coffee and danish, how I could possibly fit in. Out on the runway comes Mr. Lee in a pink (yes, pink) one-piece jump suit to introduce the 2011 theme "Women Helping Women". He appeared to be a popular cheerleader for the brand and was met by thunderous applause. The new line of jewelry was there to peruse and order - the lines around the tables to see it were 8 bodies thick. As I felt myself slipping into a claustrophobically induced case of hyperventilation, I sat myself down on the floor of the hotel lobby and beckoned my friend to come save me. "Okay, Janet - I am going to sign up. Just take my check and order for me and then I am going to go". She did. So I was now officially a Cookie Lee consultant and I got out of there before someone handed me a glass of Kool-Aide.

Three days later I was laid off from my job. Uh, seriously? So because I had no choice, I started getting excited about getting my jewelry that was due in the mail. When it did finally arrive, I opened it quickly and didn't know how to respond to it. I had never seen such a cacophony of crystals, glass beads, wood beads, bead beads, shells, chains, faux pearls, faux jade, faux turquoise, faux onyx, faus silver, faux gold - and it all seemed big! Big jewelry. If it could talk, it would be screaming. And it all came with this hideous carry bag that had see-through plastic pockets on the outside to display the jewelry. I was told that I needed to "get over" the bag and take it with me where ever I went. I was told I needed to wear at least 10 pieces of Cookie Lee jewelry everywhere I went. And you need to understand, outside of a plain gold wedding band and the occasional understated pair of earrings, I did not wear any jewelry. At all. Unless I was dressing up. And then it was always the tasteful and conservative strand of pearls. Real ones. Clearly, I had signed up for the wrong business. But I had nothing else. So I put on what felt like a ton of "big" jewelry, I filled the ugly bag, and I went out into the world - feeling like a complete freak.

Except it worked.

People stopped me. They liked what I had on. They asked to see what I had in my bag. Aaaaand - they bought! And these were smart people. People who had style and taste. People I wouldn't have thought "Cookie Lee" when thinking about. I started looking at this jewelry and myself in a new light. Cookie Lee actually had some really nice stuff. It really was comparable to what they sold in department stores. (This, I couldn't believe!) And it looked good on me. In fact, it improved my overall appearance. SO I started to wear more of it. And I started making phone calls to friends to ask them to host parties for me. And let me tell you, "thar's gold in them thar Cookie Hills". And I'm not talking "faux".

So I have been mixing and matching and layering and accessorizing and I suddenly feel like an expert. And I like it. And so I feel very equipped to show it at as many home parties as I can get booked. And my wonderful girlfriends have stepped up to the plate for me. I have 6 shows booked already. The challenge, however, is winning over a room full of "former me's" - people who have come to the party as a favor to their friend, people who have a preconceived notion as to the quality and style of the product, people who plan to buy one small, unoffensive thing that won't break the bank, that will likely find a home in a junk drawer. Ah, what goes around...

But I'll tell you what, if you want to look at it, go to www.cookielee.biz/valrismith and feel free to contact me or order directly. I'd be happy to make you a much beloved client. (So much for a subtle plug...) This certainly won't make up for a full time salary but in the face of a second uncomfortable date with unemployment, a dying print industry, and a depressed economy, my new mantra is: "Streams of income, streams of income streams of income..."

Now, if someone would only pay me to write this blog...