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Smart Mouth

Makeup breakup frees former Mary Kay junkie

By Amelia Robinson

Staff Writer

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

I was the worst Mary Kay lady ever.

I got orders correct and gave each customer a free gift with their purchase, but believe me, I was bad. I would have never earned the pink Caddy. Heck, I would have never earned my junked 1987 Ford Escort. Why?

Extras

Two reasons: My heart wasn't in the sell, and I broke the first rule of beauty sales — I got high on my own supply.

I had a jones for Age-Fighting Moisturizer. I craved Private Spa Embrace Dreams. The bottles, vials and jars that filled my modest apartment called to me in my sleep. I wanted my normal-to-dry skin to be as smooth as baby cherry tomatoes. I wanted to reverse the signs of age, unclog my pores and revitalize my skin.

Suddenly I was addicted to cosmetics, and it was nothing like Robert Palmer's song Addicted to Love. It was more like the NWA song Dopeman.

"To be a dope man boy you must qualify," then NWA member Ice Cube sang. "Don't get high off your own supply."

I definitely didn't qualify and got high on lipstick, eyeliner and microdermabrasion sets.

I moved a lot of product at first, but soon business got slow. To boost revenue I started using it myself. It was all good at first. I bought a Miracle Set and MK Signature lipstick, Downtown Brown, Raisinberry and a fuchsia color that dreadfully has been discontinued. Soon I moved on to the eyeliner, the blush and the full-coverage foundations. I was No. 607 and proud.

I wanted to show customers how fun cosmetics could be. My plan worked, but soon things turned sour.

I needed more; I just wanted more. I didn't wear a crazy amount of makeup, I just wanted options and I liked to have it around.

What started off as a way to earn a little extra cash soon turned into a $15 a week habit.

To pay for my shame, I started slinging heavy quantities. I pushed the product to co-workers, friends and superiors, alerting them when I had new supplies in.

"Psssst," I'd say. "You want some Intense Moisturizing Cream? I just got a shipment in and it's some good stuff. Girl, you know you want it."

It wasn't just wealthy cosmopolitan journalists that I peddled to; family members became customers. My mother and grandma were introduced to indigo eyeliner and Visibility Fit Body Lotion. Even my preteen nieces were wooed with "free" samples of Velocity Eau de Parfum.

At first, I convinced myself that it is what they wanted, good old supply and demand. I mean, come on, my mother buys Avon by the boatload and my grandmother made a small fortune in the home-sales trade in the decades following the Great Depression.

Then one day — more than a year after I started selling — it dawned on me, I was the worst Mary Kay consultant of all time. Who was I kidding? Why should I be buying more than I was selling? No offense to Mary Kay, but I didn't have any burning desire for a pink Cadillac. Besides, what did I need all the eyeliner for? Who was I, Tammy Faye Bakker?

So just like that and without much fanfare, I stopped.

Contact this columnist at (937) 225-2384 or arobinson@DaytonDailyNews.com.

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