I attended my first, and last, Majestic Epicurean gathering a couple of years ago. A good excuse to get the ladies out of the house for a sort of bonding ritual. I was one of a few single females in attendance, all else were either SAHMs or working professional moms. All very dynamic individuals, great conversationalists and seemingly quite intelligent women. Admittedly, I had little to nothing in common with most of them being a middle aged single female. I went along to see what all the fuss was about, this event was well planned complete with written invites. It captured my interest. I do enjoy tooling around the kitchen; a girl can’t have too many kitchen gadgets.
The party began with all of us crammed into the hostess’ sun room, heavenly scents wafting from the kitchen. The Majestic Epicurean Sales Woman of the Year had us sit in a semi-circle; easier for her to make eye contact with us all. She began by asking each of us if we were party regulars or a virgin attendee; if so what was the single most reason to return and if not, why not? After the 3rd woman tried desperately to outdo the previous woman’s answer, I knew this was not the right place for me. I had no idea this was to be a competition.For the love of Julia Child, they are only peddling kitchenware. When my turn came, I told the group that this was my first party and that I had no difficulty differentiating between baking and cooking. It was a serious dilemma posed by the sales woman and you’d be surprised how many of the participants actually gasped when I proclaimed my knowledge. How can you not know the difference between the two? Don’t get me started .
Next on the agenda was an exhibition of some of the new products and the top favorites. Followed by testimonials of how some of the items have completed the lives of those in attendance. Which surprised me since 75% of them previously admitted to knowing next to nothing about the kitchen in general.
The absolute best part of this party was when these seemingly composed women were falling all over each other to be able to participate in adding ingredients to whatever the hostess was preparing. It was set up as a demonstration; of course using each of the marvelous Majestic Epicurean tools to their maximum potential.
I am quite sure this is where the writers of the Stepford Wives got their material. Be afraid, very afraid.
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5 comments:
I am so glad that I am not the only one who got a bit unnerved at a Pampered Chef party.
I am de-lurking to let you know you aren't the only one Wicked. Love the blog!
Seems like every week, someone at work is having some party or other....jewelry, avon, home interior...I just say no thanks.
I keep waiting for someone to come around with an invite for one of those "adult" theme parties...then I'm in!! HAHAHAHA!!!!!
You have done society a great favour by warning is off the home cookery parties.
Thanks!
Oy! That would scare me, too.. Badly.
It's the glazed eyes and nicely ironed aprons brigade my mum could never quite get to be best friends with when I was a kid. She used to go to make-up and clothing parties like that and drag me along.. shudder..
Being just this side of poor at the time, I relunctently attended a PC party given by a coworker. Everyone raised an eyebrow when all I bought was a cheese grater. Just to toy with them, I proudly stated "for this price, it better do the dishes when I'm through grating cheese."
That cured the office staff of inviting me to further parties.
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