The Mumpreneur Party Circuit

During my unpleasantly acerbic years of teenagedom, I recall taking the mick quite unrelentingly out of my mother upon hearing that she used to attend Tupperware parties. Such bourgeoisie mundanity sounded like a fate worse than death; nothing so tedious awaited me in my future exciting, go-getting career-girl lifestyle.

Hmph.

It’s two months since I swapped career-dom for housewifery and I’ve already attended a Pampered Chef party, a Body Shop party and a Silver Experience party.  More loom on the horizon.  And these signify an upturn in my social life of the past five years.  Back in headier times I could spend hundreds of pounds in a single weekend – all on transient produce that lasted at best forty-eight hours – and I didn’t stagger home with kitchenware, or extra make-up and jewelery (at least not intentionally).  Nowadays, I spend a quarter of that amount on one of these ‘Mumpreneur’ parties, imbibe no more than a bottle of wine and wake up to a useful or luxurious souvenir and no hangover.

Great stuff.

Er…NOOOOOO!  Terrifying! Until lately, I’d managed to live through moving to the suburbs, marriage, labour x 2, (these are not necessarily in chronological order), rearing two children without major incident/hospitalisation/nervous breakdown (well, none that couldn’t be treated with something wet, red and served at room temperature) and not one of the aforementioned events caused so much as a ripple in the mirror of illusion that was busy reflecting my inner self back to me as a shiny twenty-four year old capable of dancing non-stop for twelve hours in a body-con dress. Obviously I don’t wear lycra and/or spandex anymore (except perhaps saggy leggings) but that didn’t stop me deluding myself that I could if the whim took me.  I no longer dance much either, Boogie Beebies notwithstanding, but boy, that inner self assumed I could still shimmy with the best of the Bright Young Things should the occasion arise.

The bell has finally tolled, though, and today the procurement of a stoneware baker, Summer Shimmer bronzer and Mexican silver earrings attest to my middle-aged motherhood more effectively than a pair of sensible shoes and a Ronnie.  I’m on the Mumpreneur party circuit and it’s only one step away from mum drinking coffee round the kitchen table in her headscarf, spunking the housekeeping on Betterware.  I can no longer hide from the fact that I have, in fact, Grown Up.

Hmph again.

The next Mumpreneur party invitation I receive is going to be rolled up with something illegal and smoked…

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10 Responses to The Mumpreneur Party Circuit

  1. MrsW says:

    We had that Tupperware thingy in 1972 – in fact I think it might have survived in a dark cupboard somewhere.

    Go with it – I now consider myself a bit of a Partylite groupie – yes the booze bill costs way more than the actual hostess discounts but meh – I make the best dip 🙂

    • jinedin says:

      We had a range of colours of those and my mum still uses them. They were essential as we spent most of our childhood on Scottish or Irish picnics involving the passing of Tupperware from the boot to the back seat while we sat, steaming, in our remarkably ineffective pack-a-macs and surly moods. Man, if my son knew how we suffered, in-car DVD-free our entire childhoods, he’d probably keel over in shock.

      If I’m honest, I’ve rather enjoyed these parties so far, although I’m a dip-free attendee to date due to our wonderfully tiny house. What a great excuse!

      Come to think of it, I’ve not come across a Partylite rep in our area yet. Hmm…
      🙂

  2. Found you via MTJAM’s tweet, very glad I did. What brilliant, funny things you write. I thought Mexican silver jewelery was the answer to not being able to pick up anything in Topshop without trying it on as I used to do; go for the travelled, wordly mother look instead. Realise is doesn’t do that, rather just marks you out as someone who can’t be arsed/doesn’t have time to go shopping for nice clothes anymore.

    • jinedin says:

      Bingo. I’m dressed primarily by Sainsburys and Tesco of late. But those earrings do jazz up a shapeless top, you know.
      Love the blog; bugger meal-planners, I’m going to browse it at leisure tomorrow to plan next week’s Vino Menu.
      Cheers!

  3. This post really made me laugh. And it is so true!
    i once heard that in your own head, from the age of about 19 you forever feel the same age, and i do believe that. i’ve always felt 30 something. (how sad)
    It is such a shock when you do something to contest that image of yourself.
    Great post
    http://marketingtomilk.wordpress.com

    • jinedin says:

      Ten of us ladies just tried ‘contesting that image of [our]selves’ on an adventure weekend in Aviemore. However, I forgot what sensitive muscles were involved in clinging onto a cantering pony and am now considering the many benefits of a comfortably inert motherhood.

  4. notwavingbutironing says:

    V funny! Yes, been there, too, when a mum friend of mine from Norwich and I travelled in to London to meet our young, funky, non-mum friend in Spitalfields, and realised we were identically attired in jeans, ballet pumps, white T-shirt and White Stuff cardigan. The uniform of a mummy on an away-day. It’s all over…

  5. Your party cicuit will not be complete till you’ve attended a candle or decorating party! LOL

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