I had not heard of Arbonne Cosmetics until my son and I attended a story group at the local bookstore. I cannot say I had the best introduction to them, either. The day had been hectic, a rush out the door taking my daughter to school, rushing my middle son to preschool, and finally landing at the mall's bookstore toddler Christmas story time with my youngest daughter--Madeline. Along the way, I had rushed out the door without any makeup with my oldest, clunkiest pair of glasses. When we reached the door of the bookstore we passed a large display advertising the music of Elton John. Madeline exclaimed "Dat you Mommy—look!" pointing to the poster.
I felt an inward groan and shiver. The short hair was a mistake—I knew that the minute I got home from the salon. Yes, a nice short bob was efficient for a mom-of-three, but it was not glamorous, either. Madeline's brutally frank childhood inference-making aside, I soldiered on with the hope that Mommy did not really look like Sir Elton John.
We nestled ourselves in the back row of the story time. I sat cross-legged on the floor with Madeline in my lap. Other women filtered in until the story began—each juggling toddlers, lattes, and diaper bags. Most of the women looked harried and, well, far from sophisticated in style. I could not help wondering if anyone else had been given the Elton look-alike observations by their toddlers. At least, I wondered that of the majority—except for one lady who stood out among the crowd.
She was well coifed, petite, and the picture of perfect comportment. Her cosmetics were flawlessly applied, showcasing her fine features. In other words, she was probably despised by more than a few women present. Her little daughter was equally radiant, with beautiful twenty-four-carat gold locks, and a prim proper little dress.
This princess of the playgroup alighted beside me like a pretty bird taking its perch. I can admit it, I was jealous. She seemed so absolutely serene and will put together. I remember wondering how such a thing was possible. It was as if all those troubles of housewives—making ends meet, laundry, scrimping on clothes for mom—held no sway over her life.
At the end of the story, she handed out free samples of cosmetics. She handed them to me first. I wondered if it were some sort of hint as to my hygiene—adding to my rather dour mood. Even the samples were perfectly arranged in a little cellophane package with a neat little bow at the top.
Ultimately, despite my grumpiness and fretting over my frumpy appearance, my curiosity got the better of me. So, I asked this mothering maven what her secret was. Then, I learned about her company Arbonne Cosmetics. I discovered that she was an independent consultant for the company and how this woman had found pride in a slice of economic autonomy through Arbonne—not to mention the amazing products she utilized on a regular basis.
Well, even if I had not been feeling dowdy, I would have jumped at the chance. The guilt of staying home while my husband shouldered the work was a source of many sleepless nights. So, I took her card, her products, and her inspiration.
To make a long story short, the products were wonderful! I used the cosmetics, then the weight loss products, and then I became a consultant in my own right! I was still a busy woman, but I finally found something to give me the chance to feel economically viable. As I felt better, I looked better. Now, I am the mothering maven at the story time. I am glad I ran across the Arbonne Cosmetics consultant,with her cosmetic samples, at the story time--it changed my world.
