Word on the street is that a home-based business is started every 12 seconds. I’m thinking that means a lot of people are trying to sell a lot of crap.
Call it a cloth or instrument of health or whatever. But this thing that will only be used to remove filth costs as much as a tank of gas.
I live in a clean house.
Cluttered? Very much so. Sanitary? Yes. Maybe even a few steps above that.
Catalog-ready? Nope. I am comfortable with this state of being, despite everyone else on earth simplifying and streamlining. It just isn’t us.
My cleaning tools are highly specialized, crafted from the finest fibers. That’s right, I’m talking Clorox Wipes. I know — single-use, disposable, wasteful — but I switched to the Blossom Cup for my special time of the month, so I feel fine about it.
I live in the desert so there’s a tremendous quantity of dust in my life. I use cheap-o microfiber dust cloths purchased 30 for $8 from a website named after a rainforest.
Then my sister-in-law, a charming human being, invited me to a Norwex party. I’d heard of the brand before in passing but that was it. Being the supportive, shopaholic person I am, I looked into Norwex to figure out what I could buy.
It wasn’t long before I was laughing out loud — not LOLing, but actually laughing alone in my house while scrolling through the website.
A rag costs $20.
What?
Call it a cloth or instrument of health or whatever. But this thing — a thing that will only be used to remove filth — costs as much as a tank of gas.
No.
Not even if I take into consideration the silver ion particles or some nonsense. I don’t believe in antimicrobial anything... unless salmonella is involved. (I’m super scared of raw chicken.)
I probably would have been nicer about the whole Norwex thing if it wasn’t the latest salvo in the endless world of home-based businesses. You know, Mary Kay/Pampered Chef/Scentsy/Premiere Designs. That’s not even getting started with the the world of pseudo-medical essential oils.
The Federal Trade Commission has lots of resources available for every variety of home-based businesses, including multilevel marketing, which is defined thusly: “In multilevel or network marketing, individuals sell products to the public — often by word of mouth and direct sales. Typically, distributors earn commissions, not only for their own sales, but also for sales made by the people they recruit.”
Word on the street/web is that a home-based business is started every 12 seconds. I think that is supposed to be reassuring, but all I’m thinking is that it means a lot of people are trying to sell a lot of crap.
Mary Kay has been around forever and I personally know someone who makes big money — and a car. Start-up costs are the way people get sucked in and suffer, here or with other sales programs. An investment of $100 up-front is fine, if you’ve got the money and a plan.
If you’re desperate? You don’t have that $100 to spare and probably aren’t going to be successful at selling beauty products.
It is hard to find any real numbers about how many people do direct sales
or how much money they make. The web is full of either big promises or pissed-off former sellers. What I do know, from bazillions of friends and family, is that making much more than pocket money means selling like a real job. Yes, it might be more flexible, but there’s no magic formula.
I totally get the desire to earn some money while focusing on other things in your life. I feel very privileged to have been able to work 10 hours a week for a lot of years making decent money.
But my sister, Liz, always full of wisdom, has it right. When someone tries to invite her to a party
to buy crap, she just hands them $20. That’s equal to about $50 in sales (though they are all different probably). Liz says that’s all it is — you pass the $20 around over and over again with all this buying and selling nonsense.
Here’s the secret, those of you participating in the home-based business world: No matter how great the products, they aren’t a good deal. For anyone. They simply aren’t worth the money.
If you are struggling to pay the bills, have a rent party. Invite people over and be honest — $20 at the door for music and laughter.
So much better than spending a wad on some sort of fabric square with magical powers that is supposedly going to make my house shine!
