When friendship has a cover charge

Dear Ruby Mac,
My best friend is selling jewelry. Before, it was Pampered Chef, and before that, lingerie. I go to everything, but I just don’t have the money to buy this expensive stuff and I’m beginning to resent being asked all the time. After all, I’ve never asked her to buy my company’s product or my husband’s company’s product, but for some reason, I’m expected to subsidize her career.

If I don’t go, I know I’ll be considered a bad friend by everybody who does show up. Any ideas to save my budget and my BFF?
Terese

Dear Terese,
Multilevel marketing is the scourge of humanity. And yet I say this with a pair of shiny silver candlesticks on order and a bottle of nasty pyramid scheme health juice in my fridge. My best friend and her sister have been doing the direct selling thing for years, and I get invited to every damn “party.”

There are pros and cons to this:
Pro: She makes the best hors d’oeurves ever. Her guacamole is the stuff of legends.
Con: It’s overpriced crap I feel obligated to buy.
Pro: I do enjoy an evening out with wine and no kids.
Con: It’s overpriced crap I feel obligated to buy.
Pro: If I go, I’ve done my BFF duty, just like the bridesmaid dress and the emergency babysitting.

After carefully weighing all my options, I have come to the conclusion that a certain amount of Tupperware or Silpada is kind of a BFF tax. It’s not fair, it’s probably not reciprocated, and I’m very glad I didn’t need to move during the 18 months she was a realtor, but still, overall, it’s worth it.

If you come to the same conclusion, here are a few tips I’ve learned:

• Only buy gifts. This should help keep you within a certain price range and alleviate buyer’s remorse. Ask — if none of the items for sale at a particular party are in your price range, just say ‘no, thanks.’
• If you’re trying on clothes or accessories, do not be encouraged by compliments from other women in the room. They’re only trying to justify their own budget-busting and, let’s admit it, they’re probably drunk.
• It’s okay to call home and get a reality check from your significant other (“Suddenly, I like turquoise. This can’t be right. Talk me out of this.”).
• Draw your line in the sand. For example, I will never, ever, consent to host a party. Never ever. Ever. Ever freaking ever. I know this, the BFF knows this, the sister knows this, as will any “hostesses” I come in contact with. This allows me to participate with good grace.

Good luck with your holiday shopping, Terese. And try the artichoke dip — it’s fabulous.

Questions for Ruby? Just ask ^[1]. . .