Sally Breslin: My Life: ONE GOOD THING ABOUT THE PANDEMIC - NO MORE INVITATIONS TO "BUY-BUY" PARTIES

If there’s one good thing about the pandemic, it’s that I no longer am receiving dozens of invitations to those home parties, as they’re called, where the hostess plies you with food and drink while you’re forced to suffer through demonstrations of everything from cleaning products to skin conditioners. Then you’re expected to drop about $100 on stuff you really don’t want or need.

There was a time when I received so many invitations to these parties, I just started to ignore them, because I knew that if I called the RSVP number to say I wouldn’t be able to attend, the hostess would manage to talk me into buying something like a case of herbal milkshakes or a $20 cake mix.

I’ll admit that in the past, I was a soft touch at these parties, and as a result, I ended up spending way too much money on useless items...because I didn’t want to look cheap in front of all the other women.

This resulted in my husband referring to them as “buy-buy” parties where you say “bye-bye” to your money. I remember one year in particular when my purchases included such “treasures” as a thick, gold-plated neck chain that held a giant owl with rhinestone eyes; a wall plaque featuring a sailing ship made of copper; dozens of Tupperware containers (even though in my house, there is no such thing as a leftover); and so many gallons of assorted organic cleaners, I single-handedly could have saved the environment.

Also, if I gathered all of the makeup products I've bought at these parties over the years and donated them to the circus, the clowns would be set for life.

But back in my younger days, there actually was one type of home party I really did enjoy. I’m talking about the lingerie parties. They usually had cute names like “Purr-fect Panties” or “Seductive Skivvies” and featured warm-up games that contained a lot of sexual innuendoes. In other words, the hostess turned her living room into the female equivalent of a male locker-room for an evening.

I went to two such parties in one year, and both times I was thoroughly entertained. I mean, where else could I see my friend’s mother model a push-up bra, or a former high-school teacher demonstrate the proper way to put on a garter belt? (Long hooks in the back, shorter hooks in the front).

And where else could I see a middle-aged woman of ample proportions hold up a pair of sparkly bikini panties that looked as if they’d been made to fit a third-grader and say, “I love these, and they’re just my size!” when she knew if, by some miracle, she ever did manage to squeeze into them, she’d need the Jaws of Life to get out of them?

I still remember one young woman who said her husband had lost his job and times were really tough, yet she ordered a sheer black negligee for $55.

“This oughta cheer him up!” she said, smiling seductively.

An older female attendee snapped at her, “If times are that tough, sweetie, don’t you think that something more practical…like groceries, or paying your electric bill…might cheer him up more? I mean, if they shut off your power, he won’t be able to see you in that darned negligee anyway!"

The hostess of the party cast the woman a glare that all but warned her she'd be strangled with a fishnet stocking if she didn’t shut up. After all, the hostess didn’t care if the young woman and her husband were forced to eat Ramen noodles for a month…she just wanted to make sure they ate them while the young woman was wearing the commission-earning $55 negligee.

The ladies at these lingerie parties never seemed to mind forking over their hard-earned cash for the grossly overpriced items. I never really was interested in spending money on something I knew I’d never wear, mainly because I’m the type who likes to wear socks and a sweatshirt to bed. So there was no way I was going to pay for some lacy thong that would give me a wedgie every time I rolled over.

However, I must confess that when I realized I was the only person at the party who didn’t fill out an order form, I felt shamed into making a purchase.

So I grabbed the brochure and flipped through it, hoping to find a pair of nice flannel pajamas. When I failed to find anything even remotely close, I searched for something else…like the cheapest item in the brochure. It wasn’t easy, but I finally found a leopard-print garter belt for $15, and it even came in my size…Jumbo Petite.

It made a great plant hanger.

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Sally Breslin is an award-winning syndicated humor columnist who has written regularly for newspapers and magazines all of her adult life. She is the author of several novels in a variety of genres, from humor and romance to science fiction. Contact her at: sillysally@att.net