1 I think I''ve girlbossed a little too close to the sun. When I signed up to attend a skincare convention, I assumed I''d have a nice quiet weekend filled with soothing colors and spa music wrapping me as tight as the fluffy robe I knew I''d be wearing. It would be the perfect calming experience before the new school year started and my days were filled with finger paint mishaps, recess accidents, and an overabundance of hyper five-year-olds. Oh, how wrong I was. Instead, conference room B at the fancy schmancy hotel I could never afford is packed to capacity, and every direction I look, there''s another blissed-out woman on the verge of crying over serums, toners, and moisturizers . oh my! Neon colors cover every surface of the room and pop music blares so loud from the speakers that the only sounds rising above it are the wails of excitement each time the presenter announces a new product. It''s a chaos I was not prepared for and honestly? I chose kindergartners. Just as the noise begins to level out, Raquel Alessio, the president of Petunia Lemon, lifts the microphone to her red-painted lips.
"And if you thought that was exciting ." She pauses for effect and even though I find it a little gratuitous-I mean, we''ve already been in this room for five hours, and respectfully, get to the point, ma''am-the crowd around me eats it up and I have to respect her showmanship. Behind her, the screen showcasing the new nighttime serum bundle begins to fade as the steady roar of high-pitched screams begin to rise until a picture of an island appears. And that''s the exact moment everyone in the room-minus me-loses their ever-loving mind. The woman to my right jumps out of her seat, and the wide-brim hat that has knocked into me countless times flies off of her head. To my left, the gorgeous blonde turns so red, I think she might pass out. All around me, excitement explodes like an episode of Oprah''s Favorite Things . but times a million.
"That''s right!" Raquel shouts over the screams reverberating in the paneled conference room. "An all-expenses-paid trip to Petunia Island is back! Who''s ready to slather their skin with our triple action sunscreen and spend a week basking beneath the Caribbean sun with their sisters in skincare?" Just like every other aspect of this conference, the video begins to play without a hitch. Images of women wearing their Petunia Lemon branded gear and holding frozen drinks with umbrellas appear on the screen. "We love Petunia Lemon!" they shout to the camera. My skin begins to tingle as I fall into a trance watching countless carefree faces saunter across the screen, their heads thrown back in laughter, long hair glistening in the sun. Their stress-free smiles taunt me, laughing at my broke behind while they live their best, wrinkle-free life. Worry lines? About what? Not days spent fretting over rent and student loan payments, that''s for sure. "Before Petunia Lemon, I could''ve never imagined a vacation like this.
I never thought all I''d have to do to get here was talk to my friends about the products I was already obsessed with," Jackee (35, Kentucky) says. "This is my third trip to Petunia Island and not only do I get to enjoy it, I get to enjoy it with hundreds of my closest friends!" Hundreds of her closest friends? I barely have two. The skeptical part of me I vowed to wear like a knight''s armor this weekend, that''s slowly been chipped away at, crashes to the ground. I can feel the excitement I''ve been trying to suppress in my toes, slowly washing over me like the gentle waves lapping on the shores of Petunia Island. Maybe this really could be my life. "Will we see you here?" five women say in perfect unison before holding hands and jumping off of a yacht into crystal blue water. The video transitions from ocean tranquility to what can only be described as a proper rager. But instead of teens taking shots of cheap vodka, this party is full of middle-aged women throwing their arms in the air and dancing their hearts out beneath flashing lights.
The camera zooms in on the performer onstage who, if I''m not mistaken, won last season of The Voice. It''s like a fever dream from my wildest Real Housewives fantasy, and I want nothing more than to whoop it up with my sisters in skincare over watered-down drinks and 2000s pop classics. I''ve only been served an assortment of sparkling water since I''ve been here, but suddenly, I''m chugging the Kool-Aid along with everyone else in conference room B. "How amazing was that?" Raquel struts back onto the stage, her flushed skin glowing even beneath the harsh lights. "I have to tell you, before Petunia Lemon, I worked for a Fortune 500 beauty company. There were articles in Forbes about how well they treated their employees, but nothing they ever did for us compared to Petunia Island. Every time I go there, I have to pinch myself because we have, without a doubt, the best company in the world!" The room breaks into another round of applause, and I can''t help it, I''m on my feet cheering along with the rest of them. Who even am I? "And all you have to do for an all-expenses-paid vacation to our private island is to have three consecutive months of two thousand PV"-the mysterious point system everyone except me seems to understand-"and grow your Empowered Skincare team to twenty consultants! So many of you are already there, and with the new products we''re introducing this weekend, you''re going to beat this number tenfold.
I really believe that this year is going to be our biggest year ever!" She moves effortlessly across the stage despite the four-inch heels on her feet and scans the crowd. "Amber Johnson, we were lounging on the beach together a few months ago. How many consultants on your team are coming to Petunia Island with you this?" A camera quickly finds Amber, and her poreless face fills the screens around the room. "We''re all going to be there!" Amber yells back, and a group of what has to be at least thirty women start jumping up and down around her. "Yeah you are!" Raquel pumps her fist in the air before pointing back into the crowd. "If you stop making excuses and commit to telling your friends about these products, you can not only change your skin, but change your life. This is your business. There is absolutely no reason I shouldn''t see each and every one of you at Petunia Island next spring!" Raquel slips the microphone back onto the mic stand, waving long, slender arms and blowing kisses to the crowd, who are eating up her every movement.
By the time she makes her way off of the stage and the fluorescent lights kick on overhead, I can''t tell if I feel like I had ten drinks or I need them. The floor vibrates, the air crackles, and my veins feel like they''re pumped full of Pop Rocks. Eight new products, five speeches, three videos, and one island later, they''ve sucked me right in. I haven''t felt this passionate about anything since that time I decided to pledge a sorority my freshman year of college. I didn''t get in . but I was super enthusiastic, and they do say it''s the effort that counts. "Oh my god! Emerson!" Nora dodges blonde after blonde as she rushes toward me. "Wasn''t that amazing? I told you it was going to be amazing, but that was extra amazing! Tell me what you think.
Are you sold? You''re sold, aren''t you!" "I think I might be sold," I admit, and her blue eyes practically triple in size. "But I''m still worried about the cost." Nora Stone, my principal and professional fairy godmother, is sunshine in human form. To her, everything is either amazing, incredible, fabulous, or divine. If she''s having a down day, she might say something is in need of zhuzhing or it needs to "take a break." Her optimism can be off-putting for some people, but as someone in a profession where the only thing harder to find than a bright spot are funds, it''s what keeps me going most days. "I totally understand, I felt the same way when I first joined," she says. "We''re in education, it''s not like we have a ton of extra money to spend.
" "I feel like my bills are going up every month. The thought of spending more is kind of overwhelming." I make the same amount I made last year, but it seems like it doesn''t go half as far. The only reason I was able to come to this convention was because Nora''s friend, Jacqueline, had something happen with her kid and couldn''t make it. They didn''t want the ticket to go to waste, so they gave it to me. Although, I''m not sure I would''ve accepted if I realized how much parking was going to cost me. "I get that." She takes my hand and pulls me into a now empty row of chairs.
"But you really couldn''t pick a better time to join. Petunia Lemon just implemented a brand-new buy back policy so there''s zero risk in joining now. If you sign up and realize in a few weeks or months that you''re not into this, you can send all of your product back and get a full refund." "Really?" It almost sounds too good to be true, but if there''s one person I trust not to lead me down the wrong path, it''s Nora. "Really," she says before leaning in closer. "But I know you''re going to love it." I take a deep breath and look around the room. It''s still packed with hundreds, maybe thousands of women just like me who are saying this opportunity changed their lives.
If they can do it, then why can''t I? Not to be cocky or anything, but I am kind of awesome. And if I can get a classroom full of kind.