I do remember Avon calling and my hoarding those tiny lipstick samples, and I remember the Fuller Brush Man in our living room, but no real stories spring to mind about either of them. I did, however, have a stint as a door-to-door salesperson myself around that same time, in the 50s, when my parents agreed to let me answer an ad on the back of a magazine to sell greeting cards and wrapping paper.
I also have a few leftover Valentine's cards. Now that I look at them, they seem a tad racy for a kid to be selling...maybe they somehow got mixed in with the others.
The inventory arrived, along with a small cardboard box that folded into a briefcase with a handle. I could barely wait to hit the sidewalk, made a few sales, but ultimately ran out of steam once I ran out of neighbors that knew me and ordered just to be neighborly. I did make a little cash, and while this may have sparked my lifelong entrepreneurial spirit, it turns out I just wasn’t very good at sales. Most of the inventory ended up in a bottom dresser drawer where my mom kept it, throughout my childhood, along with some all-purpose gifts — handkerchiefs, a scarf, a lacquered Japanese bowl, a plastic sliding puzzle, a folding coin purse, a set of playing cards, off-brand perfume, a folding fan with a red tassel, and coasters — should the sudden need arise. She did eventually use up the wrapping paper, but believe it or not, I still have some of those cards, and of course now they’re “quaint” at best. And most of them are get well cards…because who sent get well cards anyway?
I also have a few leftover Valentine’s cards. Now that I look at them, they seem a tad racy for a kid to be selling…maybe they somehow got mixed in with the others.
I’ve gotta give those door-to-door salespeople credit. There’s an art to selling, and I’ve never mastered it. In the early 1990s, I launched my own small handmade greeting card company. I wasn’t bad at coming up with designs, but selling them was another matter so I hired my daughter to go out and drum up business. Of course I had to show her the ropes so off we went to a cute little antique curios shop that I thought, with a little imagination, could be a good fit. We walked in with our sample case — this was no cardboard box but rather a vintage wicker briefcase interwoven with ribbon befitting the style of my cards — browsed a bit, and then I asked to speak to the manager or owner.
“I’m the manager,” said the manager.
“Hi! I’m Barbara, and this is my daughter, Erin. We make these beautiful greeting cards that I think would be a perfect fit for your shop — we’d love to show them to you…” and I begin to open my case.
“I’m sorry, we’re not really interested in selling greeting cards here.”
“Okay, well thank you, have a nice day,” and I turned on my heel and walked out, my daughter trailing behind me. As soon as we hit the sidewalk:
“Mom, that was pathetic! I could have done so much better!”
“Well, then, you do it next time.” And that she did.
Barbara BucklesArtist, writer, storyteller, spy. Okay, not a spy…I was just going for the rhythm.
I call myself “an inveterate dabbler.” (And my husband calls me “an invertebrate babbler.”) I just love to create one way or another. My latest passion is telling true stories live, on stage. Because it scares the hell out of me.
As a memoirist, I focus on the undercurrents. Drawing from memory, diaries, notes, letters and photographs, I never ever lie, but I do claim creative license when fleshing out actual events in order to enhance the literary quality, i.e., what I might have been wearing, what might have been on the table, what season it might have been. By virtue of its genre, memoir also adds a patina of introspection and insight that most probably did not exist in real time.
You were brave to try the door-to-door route, Barb, and I love those vintage cards. Like you, I lack that innate sales ability, but I’m glad that Erin seems to have it. Hope you had a decent business out of her efforts.
Thanks, Marian…and yes, it was a decent little business for a time. Turns out Erin didn’t really enjoy pounding the pavement to drum up sales, but I was lucky enough to get picked up by a wonderful sales rep. Unluckily, though, not long after launching the business my then husband became ill and I shut down the business to care for him.
We make plans and God laughs, right?
Great story, Barb! I love hearing about your entrepreneurial spirit as a child – is that the actual ad that you answered, or just a reasonable facsimile? We had to participate in fundraisers in elementary school, hitting up the neighbors to buy tickets to card parties or other things they didn’t want, so I wouldn’t have been interested in that ad. Funny that you still have some of the inventory.
You ended the story with a teaser. Now I want to know about how Erin did the next time, when she was so much better. Is that another story? Or a postscript to this one? Don’t leave me hanging!
Haha, I’m almost surprised that I don’t have the actual ad considering how much stuff I DO have from that era, but It is a reasonable facsimile.
For the postscript to this story, please see my answer to Marian. Of course there’s a lot more to it, and some of it will undoubtedly make it here to Retrospect sooner or later. Hang in there, kiddo!
Babs, as you point out, easier said than done. I love that you tried when you a young girl and your mother had a drawer full of little curios, in case an impromptu gift might be needed (I confess, I keep boxed candy around at Christmas time for just the same reason – in case my kids are home, get invited to go to some party and haven’t thought to buy a hostess gift).
Your home made cards are truly lovely; works of art. I give you a lot of credit for then trying to find an outlet for selling them. I also love that your daughter thought she could (and evidently DID) do better. Thanks for your take on this prompt. Always so interesting.
Thanks so much, Betsy! I did enjoy some success with the cards, and of course one thing leads to another and another and so on. As I always say, no regrets, because nothing is wasted.
I loved my mom’s gift drawer and have to admit I raided it from time to time. I’ve always thought it would be great to have one but never quite got around to it. Besides, we have a See’s Candy nearby 🙂
Your cards look beautiful, Barb. I would have bought them. Like you, I can’t sell anything. I didn’t get that gene from my mother. Once, I had a job selling subscriptions over the phone for the Chicago Tribune. As son as the manager left the office, I stopped calling. I hated bothering people and being hung up on. Needless to say, I did not earn any commissions.
Thanks, Laurie…and I know what you mean. I always felt like I was bothering someone…just don’t like asking or trying to talk someone into something.
Good for Erin!
She’s a real team player, Dee. It was just the two of us for so many years, we just did whatever it took to make things happen…still do, actually!
Not a bad philosophy!
And what an enviable mother-daughter relationship, BB & Erin!
I totally relate as to not being a sales person- Its way too intimidating for me. Its funny but when my kids show me up, it makes me proud! Amazing you still have cards from then!
I feel the same way — being proud of your kids even when they outshine you is a sign of being a good mom! I never understood how my own mother saw me as competition, especially as I matured.